


This Life

by coyg_81



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Developing Friendships, Falling In Love, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Post-War, Smut, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-27 13:56:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 57,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10023737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coyg_81/pseuds/coyg_81
Summary: Returning to Hogwarts to finish their last year after the war, Hermione and Blaise are made Head Girl and Head Boy. But what is Blaise hiding? Why is Draco always around? And what's up with Ginny?This story is going to contain angst, drama, lemons, and a triad. If this is not your thing, please don't read it! (inc Ginny bashing)





	1. New Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy my first multi-chapter fic. I've always loved Dramione, but someone put me onto this little triad and now I'm hooked, so I thought I'd try writing my own. 
> 
> Massive thanks to SaintDionysus for beta-ing and encouraging me and to Gryff_inTheGame for being awesome. Go have a read of their own stories on here. 
> 
> Also, thanks to the girl's over at StrictlyDramione for giving me idea's on the Zabini family crest.
> 
> FYI - I do not own anything HP related, that honor go's to JK Rowling!

THIS LIFE

Chapter One

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

New Beginnings

 

 

 

“BLAISE ZABINI?” Hermione screeched at the headmistress sitting opposite her and banging her teacup down onto the table in front of her, “Really? Zabini? Why?” Hermione asked, her stress levels had just risen tenfold. She was sitting in her parents dining room, in her childhood home on the outskirts of Notting Hill, London, being told that she'd been made Head Girl this year. That news had been overshadowed by the fact that her mentor and Headmistress, had just made Slytherin snake supremo, Blaise ‘sodding’ Zabini, Head Boy. She couldn't do it. There was no way she'd be able to work with the cold, arrogant boy. Plus the fact that he and ferret face himself, Draco Malfoy, seemed to be joined at the hip. She was furious, she could feel the electricity and anger coursing through her, making her face hot and red, the static emanating through her was making her hair wilder. She ground her teeth together waiting for McGonagall's reply.

 

“Yes, Hermione, I have made Mr Zabini Head Boy. I feel that a Gryffindor and Slytherin Head Boy and Head Girl would work wonders for house unity. This divide between houses, and blood superiority is still prominent, even after the fall of Voldemort.” Hermione cringed. She had no problem saying or hearing his name, it still made her cringe though and brought back a flood of memories she was trying to forget.

 

It was unusual to hear McGonagall call a student by their given name, but she had always had a soft spot for Hermione. Being head of Gryffindor house, she’d watched the young witch closely, and she’d watched her struggle to make friends in those first few weeks at Hogwarts. She’d also seen her struggle adapting to her new life in the wizarding world. And later when boys like Malfoy had been taunting and bullying her. Not long after they'd started at Hogwarts, McGonagall had asked to see Hermione in her office after classes. She just wanted to ask how she was doing and getting on. From then on Hermione had found an excuse to visit her in her office on the same day every week until it became a regular thing. They would chat for around an hour over tea and biscuits. McGonagall started to look forward to her visits and had become quite close to the girl. And after everything that had happened during the war and Hermione's parents still not here with her, McGonagall had taken it upon herself to look out for Hermione.

 

“How do you know that though? School hasn't even started yet.” Hermione stated superiorly, thinking she'd won this round. There's no way McGonagall could know that. It had only been three months since the fall of Voldemort.

 

“You've seen the papers, and been to Diagon Alley, and even the ministry itself. You know hostilities are still running high, on both sides. The best place to begin to dispel these prejudices is to start at the school. Hopefully in a few years, the younger generations won't know what it's like to live in a world as it is, or has been.”

 

 _Damn it._ She couldn't argue with that. Not one bit. It was logical and Hermione was a logical thinker. Still though… “I don't think I can do it Headmistress. It's too much. He and Malfoy are always together and I imagine he would be present quite a bit around the heads common room. I can't see him. Not after what happened. Surely you can understand that?” She asked her quietly, calming down a little. It had only been a few months since she'd been tortured and branded by that crazy witch Bellatrix at Malfoy Manor. Hermione was still suffering nightmares and panic attacks. She knew Draco had just stood there watching while it happened. Ok, so they hadn't been friends at school, far from it, but she had thought that he wouldn't of wanted to see one of his fellow classmen suffer like that. She was wrong, he had, and it changed everything.

 

“I'm sorry Hermione. I've made Mr Malfoy a prefect again, so you will have to deal with him I'm afraid. If anyone can do it, it'll be you my dear. I have complete faith that you are the one to change things up at the school. I have spoken to both Mr Zabini and Mr Malfoy. They have assured me that their behaviour over the last seven years will not continue. They are under very strict instructions and they know what is expected of them both. If you have any problems with either of them, I expect you to report it to me straight away.” She lifted her teacup to her wizened old mouth and eyed Hermione over the rim of the cup. She was waiting for a reaction, but saw the girl deep in thought over what she'd said, so she continued, “There is another reason I've made these decisions. I want you to keep an eye on Mr Malfoy. I know he and his family changed allegiance at the very end of the war but I do need to know if he's truly changed his opinions, and there's no one better for the task than you. Besides which, has Mr Zabini ever been vocal in his disapproval of you? As far as I am aware you have had no altercations with him, and his family were neutral in the war. They spent the majority of the last year in Italy,”

 

Hermione took a moment to think about what McGonagall had said. She was right, she hadn't had any run-ins with Zabini. He'd only spoken to her once. That was during fourth year at the Yule Ball. She had been standing beside a table waiting for Viktor to come back with drinks when she felt a pair of hands on her waist. She stiffened when those hands had pulled her back into a hard warm body, followed by a pair of lips blowing warm breath and whispering in the shell of her ear, “You look hot Granger. I knew you had it in you.” Those lips pressed just under her ear, on the soft skin of her neck and then they were gone. She'd turned quickly to see Zabini strolling out of the hall. With a backwards glance, he winked at her. She’d shivered and goose bumps had appeared on her arms. She didn't understand why he had done that, or why she'd reacted like that. Her heart had been beating hard and she felt flustered. She remembered a blush had risen over her face and neck and she'd felt heat rise with the blush. She decided to let it go. He was just a stupid Slytherin snake who was trying to get a rise out of her.

 

So no, Blaise Zabini hadn't ever been outright hostile to her. Even all of those times during Slughorn's ridiculous Slug Club parties, where they sat opposite each other he'd never spoken to her. She'd caught him looking at her a couple of times but put it down to her answering a question at the time, so everyone had been looking at her. She still wasn't happy about the current situation though. She didn't like him by association of who he hung around with. But if McGonagall had put her faith in Hermione, she knew she wouldn't let her down. She always rose to a challenge and finding out Malfoy’s true feelings and opinions was just another task to her. Still, having to interact with Hogwarts biggest git wasn't going to be easy. In fact, she was dreading it.

 

With a sigh, she nodded at her Headmistress. “Okay then. I will try my best and I will come to you the minute Malfoy upsets me.” _Which will be under a week_ she thought snidely. There was no way Malfoy would treat her any differently than he always did.

 

“Thank you, Hermione,” she replied exhaling a breath, “I know that I'm asking a lot but if relations can be thawed between the three of you, it will do wonders for the rest of the school. You will be the example to lead by. I have a few changes already in place.” McGonagall rose from her seat and made to walk into the adjoining living room and towards the fireplace. Hermione had had her fireplace connected to the floo network. Even though she lived in a muggle house, Kingsley had ok’d it for her. Perks of being a war heroine she thought. After the final battle she'd gone back with the Weasley’s to the burrow for a couple of weeks. She needed to be surrounded by people she loved and that loved her while they all came to terms with what had happened. After a couple of weeks though, she felt she needed some time to herself to work through all the feelings and thoughts she was reeling from. She'd told Harry and Ron that she was going home until September and that she'd stay in contact with them both. They hadn't wanted her to go but let her.

 

Her parents were still in Australia and still had no idea that Hermione was their daughter. She'd obliviated them before going on the run with the boys on the horcrux hunt. Kingsley had sent an Auror over there to work with the Australian wizarding ministry to try and find them. They'd had no luck at this point. She felt closer to them at her childhood home and so she had returned. She was surrounded by their belongings and all the pictures of the three of them everywhere made her feel safe. And to be honest, there was so much sadness at the Weasley’s after the death of Fred, that she could use the peace and quiet.

 

McGonagall turned back to Hermione before stepping into the fireplace to say one last thing to her, “Hermione, please don't worry about anything. Take these next few weeks to yourself. This is going to be the quietest, most relaxed year you'll have at Hogwarts,” she smiled at the girl encouragingly.

 

Hermione raised her eyebrow as if to say ‘ _yeah right’_ and bid goodbye to the witch. With a whoosh McGonagall was gone. Hermione collapsed onto her sofa and exhaled a huge breath. Quiet and relaxed? At Hogwarts? With two of the worst Slytherin snakes that ever lived? She didn't stand a chance.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

A couple of days later, Hermione was curled up on the couch reading her newest edition of Hogwarts: A History when she heard a tapping at her window. Looking over, she saw a snowy white owl on the window ledge. She crossed over the room to let the beautiful creature in. For a second she thought it was Hedwig, who was Harry’s owl. But Hedwig had died trying to protect him. The owl swooped in and landed on her coffee table. Hermione went to fetch a couple of owl treats and dropped them down next to him. Untying the letter, she stroked the owls soft feathers. It ate its treats and flew back out of the open window. Hermione sat back on the sofa and looked at the letter. It had a seal on it that she didn't recognise. It had laurel leaves around the outside with a Hydra in the middle. One head turned to the right, one turned to the left and the middle one with its mouth open looking ready to strike. She had a feeling on who this was from, the laurel leaves and the snake a blatant giveaway. Opening up the letter and unrolling it, she was impressed by the elegant script. The note read…

 

_Granger,_

_Looking forward to 1st September._

_BZ_

 

 

 


	2. First September

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Two for you guys. Hope you enjoy it. There is a slight mention of torture at the beginning of this one. (Just to let you know)
> 
> Thanks to SaintDionysus for Beta-ing and Gryff_inTheGame for feedback x
> 
> ~coyg_81 x

THIS LIFE

_____________________

Chapter Two

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

First September

_____________________________

 

Hermione awoke with a start and shot up into a sitting position. Her heart was thumping hard. Her sweat-soaked hair stuck to her head, and the bedding twisted around her legs. Looking around the room quickly, realising she was in her own bed and alone. Kicking her legs out and untangling herself, she swung around and put her feet down on the cold wood floor.  She sat straight and placed her hands on her knees, concentrating on breathing in and out until she could feel her heartbeat slowing back to a normal rhythm. Another nightmare. She hadn’t had one for about a week now. It nearly always started the same. She shivered as the memory of the nightmare slithered through her mind. She was lying on the cold, hard floor of Malfoy Manor. Bellatrix LeStrange was carving into her arm with her cursed dagger. Hermione is screaming and looking around, she locks eyes with Draco. He has a look of shock on his face, but doesn’t make a move towards her and the scene changes. She’s standing up, Harry and Ron are standing in front of her. Bellatrix has her dagger against Hermione’s throat. As Harry and Ron surge forward to save her, Bellatrix starts carving into her throat and this is the point Hermione always jumps awake. She hadn’t slept properly since the end of the war. If she wasn’t having nightmares, then most nights would find her tossing and turning relentlessly. The continued lack of sleep was starting to have an effect on her.

 

She’d lost weight, her face looked hollow and her eyes were now sporting permanent purple rings. She felt frazzled and worn out. Dreamless Sleep potion was having a negative effect on her, so she had stopped taking it. Slowly she managed to control her breathing before she had a full on panic attack, she stood from her bed and made her way to the en-suite bathroom. She loved this room, it was decorated in a Victorian style with panels around the bottom half of the walls. A freestanding sink with an ornate mirror on the wall above the sink sat opposite the door. Over to the right was a freestanding roll top bath, a walk in shower to the left. It was painted in a warm cream colour with whitewash wood flooring. She turned the taps on and added a few drops of eucalyptus oil. Brushing her teeth, she noticed her reflection looking back at her from the mirror. _I’ll definitely need a glamour charm on these dark circles,_ she thought. Undressing from her sleep shorts and tank top, she slid into the warm water of the bath, the calming scent chasing off the remnants of the nightmare _._ After she had shampooed her hair and scrubbed her skin with with her loofa, she stepped from the tub, grabbed a fluffy towel from the shelf and made her way back into her bedroom. Walking over to the bedside table, she reached for her wand and used a drying  charm on her hair. She dressed quickly in a pair of denim shorts and a green t-shirt. Even though it was the colour of her rival house at Hogwarts, the colour had always suited her and seeing as they were having a hot summer, she'd chosen shorts, jeans would be too uncomfortable in the heat.  She walked over to her dressing table and sat down. Staring again at the reflection in the mirror, she cast a glamour to hide the dark circles. She added a tiny bit of rouge to her cheeks for colour, and that was it. She looked better than she did thirty seconds ago. Harry and Ron wouldn't suspect anything, she thought.

 

She was meeting her two best friends in Diagon Alley to pick up their school supplies for the last time. Making her way to the living room, she scratched Crookshanks’ head and bid him farewell. The lazy ginger beast didn't even raise his head to look at her. Rolling her eyes, she grabbed her bag from the armchair and flooed to the Leaky Cauldron.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

She spotted the bright red head of Ron outside Flourish and Blotts, Harry standing next to him. She made her way over to them and tapped Ron on the shoulder. He spun around and shouted “‘Mione.” he grabbed her up into a big bear hug and spun her round.

 

“Oh Ronald, put me down you oaf,” she laughed at him. When he’d put her back on her feet, she turned to Harry, who stretched his arms out for a hug as well. She stepped forward into his embrace. Hug’s with Harry were the best in her opinion. Letting her go, he held her at arm’s length, observing her.

 

He had a worried look on his face, “You’ve lost more weight Hermione, and you look tired. Everything ok?” he enquired. She couldn’t get anything past him, he knew her too well.

 

Smiling at her pseudo-brother, Hermione answered him as cheerfully as possible, “Of course Harry, I’m fine. No need to worry about me.”

 

“Well come on then ‘Mione,” Ron ordered. “We thought we’d make the first stop right here and get it over and done with and then have lunch,” he said with a laugh, knowing full well that they’d be spending a fair bit of time in Hermione’s favourite shop.

 

“You’re in luck Ron, I ordered some books on the internet at my house last week, so I only need the textbooks from here,”

 

Looking confused he asked, “What’s the internet?” Harry and Hermione giggled. They liked to wind Ron up by talking about muggle stuff.

 

“Don’t worry Ron. It’ll take to long to explain,” Harry said amused while rolling his eyes at Hermione.

 

They made their way into the bookshop, giggling like they normally did together. After only thirty minutes, they had exited Flourish and Blotts and were making their way through the throngs of people doing their last minute shopping. Parents looked stressed running around after their children and everything was bright and loud. There were only two more days until the start of term. Hermione was grateful that most of the shop owners had decided to return to their businesses. Diagon Alley was well on it’s way to being back to how it was before the war. They spent the afternoon wandering around, stopping in Eeylops to pick up owl treats and into Slug and Jiggers so Hermione could buy some potions ingredients she needed. She was taking Advanced Potions this year and needed to provide some of the ingredients herself. They finally stopped at a new restaurant that had opened up called _The Wild Dragon_. All three of them were in awe of the decor. Round, dark wood tables and chairs, were set with green tablecloths and fine silver cutlery. A bar ran down the right side of the space with every drink imaginable; she saw one section behind the bar dedicated to Ogden's with around 20 or so different bottles of Firewhiskey. They even had posh muggle ones like Hendrick's Gin and Grey Goose vodka. It was a very upscale kind of place, and the atmosphere was warm and inviting. Even though the place looked full, they had no problem finding a table. Perks of being war heroes and the Golden Trio, Hermione thought. The best part were the murals of dragons painted onto the walls that had been charmed to fly around. It looked amazing and the food had been excellent, as well. They were about to start dessert but Ron decided to go off to the bar for more drinks. Harry turned to Hermione.

 

“So, how have you _really_ been Hermione? I know you want me and Ron to think your ok, but I know better. Now tell me, how’s it been being back at home?” He lifted his spoon filled with cherry pie and cream to his mouth waiting for her to answer.

 

She could have lied and told him everything was fine, but Harry was the closest thing she had to family, and she didn’t see the point in not being truthful. “To be honest Harry, I’m still not sleeping too well. I had a nightmare last night. First one I’ve had in about a week,” she spoke quietly leaning her head in close to Harry and looking around the room to see if anyone was listening. A few people were throwing glances their way, not quite believing that the saviour of the wizarding world was out and about. None of them had been around in public much, preferring to be at home. In the first few weeks after the final battle, people had hounded the three friends wanting to congratulate them, or in the case of the press wanting an exclusive interview. Kingsley, the new Minister for Magic, had made a speech, asking for everyone to back off and give them all some space. After all, they were still only seventeen and eighteen years old and had just fought in a war. “It’s been nice being back at home, though. I feel calmer and more relaxed. McGonagall has visited a couple of times, that’s been nice,” she told him.

 

He smiled softly at her, his brows slightly knitted together. He was worried but didn’t want her to see that, “Dreamless Sleep still not helping?”

 

She just shook her head at him sadly, “I’d be using it if it was working, but I still have nightmares even after taking it, and I don’t want to become dependent on it.”

 

Harry sighed. He didn’t want to see her suffering like this. Obviously, they had all been through a lot, but neither Ron or Harry had been tortured by the most unhinged, craziest witch ever, and Hermione was reminded of it every single day. Every time she looked at her arm, she was reminded. Even he wasn’t having as many nightmares now. Life at the Weasleys had been good for him. Once they’d gotten Fred’s funeral over with, and all had some time to adjust, things had started to settle down. Mrs Weasley seemed focused on Harry, Ron and Ginny, constantly fussing and making sure they were fed and had enough sleep and rest. It had felt almost normal to Harry, even though there was always that underlying current of grief that permeated everything. George had moved into the flat above his shop after his twin’s funeral. He had wanted to be on his own for a while, but all the Weasleys made sure to visit often to make sure he was ok. Ginny, whom Harry had rekindled his relationship with, had been a little strange while Hermione was staying with them—but she seemed to relax once Hermione had left. Harry knew there had always been some kind of jealousy — on Ginny’s part, over Hermione. She seemed to resent how close the three of them all were. Ginny being a year younger, Harry, Ron and Hermione had already established their friendship by the time she had started at Hogwarts, and so, as a result she had always felt left out and on the sidelines.

 

“I like that McGonagall's been looking out for you Hermione. Makes me feel better to know you've had some company. I know you wanted time on your own, it was hard for me and Ron to just let you be, you know?”

 

“I know,” she whispered, “But I really do appreciate it, and honestly, it has been nice to be away from everything and everyone. No offence,” Hermione said while smiling at him. “Anyway school starts in two days, so I'll have that to concentrate on. I think keeping myself busy will help to feel normal again, I've done my wallowing and getting back into a routine will be good. With my Head Girl duties, I'm sure I'll have lots going on,” she brightened at the thought of this. Hogwarts really was like going home, and she couldn't think of any place she'd rather be than there, surrounded by familiar things, the routine of lessons and having her friends by her side for their last year at school. Yes, she definitely felt better about things.

 

“And we're meeting on the platform at 10.45am, right?” He asked, pleased that she seemed happier than the last time he saw her.

 

“Yes, I'll be there.”

 

Ron returned then, holding three glasses of what looked like Firewhiskey. He sat back down and passed the glasses over. He had a cheeky grin on his face that made Hermione smile. She was glad they could remain friends after she'd told him she wasn't interested in starting a relationship with him. He hadn't been happy when they'd had ‘that’ conversation a few days before she had come home. She explained to him that his friendship meant more to her than a relationship and if he really thought about it, they didn't have quite enough in common for them to have a good one together. He had sulked for a day or so before conceding that she was right.  “I thought one drink and a toast to new beginnings before school,” he declared, raising his glass towards them both. Harry and Hermione raised their glasses and with a clink against each other's the three chorused “New Beginnings,” at the same time.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

She left the boys after they'd finished at the restaurant and flooed back home. After putting her purchases away she sat down on the sofa with a cup of tea and a book she wouldn't be caught dead with at school. It was muggle fiction, and it was questionable at best. The way she described it was a smut fest full of the same characters in every book. Rich businessmen with some sort of issues, seduces a poor, little, broken girl into a relationship. Stuff happens, and then they all live happily ever after. She indulged in this sort of drivel because she didn't have to use her brain to read them. She could just kind of switch off from everything around her and immerse herself into the story. It was easy reading for her, plus she thought the sex scenes were hot. Hermione didn't understand why people thought she was a prude. She was a very passionate person. So why people thought that wouldn’t transcend into her sex life, she didn't know, even though technically she didn't have a sex life. She had been getting herself off enough over the years to know what she liked and didn't like. She knew where she wanted to be touched. She also knew that it would probably be completely different when it was a man touching her with their hands and lips, and other things. She blushed at the thought.

 

So Hermione definitely didn't understand when at that very minute, when she was thinking about a man's lips on her throat and hands on her hips, Blaise Zabini’s note popped into her head. Pulling out of her reverie and looking over at the coffee table, she spotted the piece of parchment that was tucked under one of her potions magazines. She reached over for it and read it over for the millionth time since it had arrived. What did he mean, he was _looking forward to first September_? Did that mean he was looking forward to working with her or living with her or, god forbid, he was looking forward to making her life hell for the next year. She'd nearly had a panic attack when she thought about that last option when the note had first come. And she had thought about it a lot since then. Normally when she was trying to get to sleep, thoughts running through her mind. Why had he written to her? She hoped to Merlin and all the gods that if she had to share a dorm with him, they could at least keep it civil, after all it was Malfoy she really had the problem with, and as long as he didn't hang around too much, she'd be fine. Forgetting what McGonagall had asked of her for the minute, she knew she would have to have some time to settle back into school before being faced with the blond haired wizard again. Putting the note back on the table, Hermione went into her bedroom and decided to start packing her things into her trunk ready for September first.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Two mornings later at 10.45am, Harry, Ron and Hermione were stepping aboard the Hogwarts Express. Finding their usual carriage, they sat down and made themselves comfortable.

 

“Feels weird being back on here after everything. You know what I mean?” Ron asked with a sobre look on his face.

 

Yes, they did know. All three of them felt it. There would be fewer people coming back this year and faces from their own house they would never see again.

 

“Yeah Ron, but you know what?” Harry answered him, “we won, and we owe it to those that aren't with us anymore to try and have the best time this year. They wouldn't want us to be moping around and miserable. It's time to start putting the past behind us and start looking to a bright future.”

 

Hermione was gobsmacked. She'd hadn't heard Harry speak this way, so positive and upbeat, since, she couldn't remember when, to be honest. Fifth and sixth year had been bad and then everything that followed after, it was hard to find positive moments during all of that. But it was done now and looking over at her best friend; she realised he was right. It was time to start looking forward.

 

“Yeah mate, your right. Fancy a game of chess then?” Ron was easily persuaded out of his sad mood, and the boys set up the chess board between them. Hermione had just leant back into her seat and rested her head against the window, watching London go by them when the door began to slide open. Neville walked in followed by Ginny. Hermione felt a little nervous. She never really understood what Ginny’s problem had been with her all these years. She had tried to make friends with the redhead and include her all the time, but Ginny wasn’t accepting of Hermione. She was proving that now by wedging herself on the seat between Hermione and Harry and turning her back to her. She flipped her long red hair over her shoulder and leant into Harry. Hermione sighed. She couldn’t be bothered with Ginny right now. Neville sat down opposite Hermione and asked how she had been.

 

“I’m fine. Thank you, Neville. Just been relaxing and catching up on some reading. How have you been?” She heard Ginny snort at her answer but didn’t say anything. 

 

“Oh, I’m good thanks. Been seeing quite a bit of Hannah, spending less time around Gran,” Neville smiled at his fellow Gryffindor and friend.

 

“Hannah Abbott?” Hermione asked him.

 

“Yeah, she’s a really sweet girl. I enjoy spending time with her. She decided not to come back this year, though,” he followed up.

 

Hermione started to stand while answering her friend, Ron also looked up at the movement. “That’s a shame Neville, but at least you have us here with you,” she smiled warmly at her friend. She had a lot of time for Neville. He’d always been such a sweet boy and had definitely proved why the Sorting Hat had put him into Gryffindor when he had decapitated Nagini.

 

“Where’re you going ‘Mione?” Ron asked her as she made her way to the door of the compartment. Harry had looked up from the chess board, and even Ginny was looking at her, even though the latter had a sneer on her face.

 

“I have to meet McGonagall and Zabini in the heads carriage.”

 

“Blaise Zabini?” Ginny piped up.

 

“Do you know any other Zabini, Ginevra?” Hermione asked sharply.

 

“Wait. So your Head Girl and Zabini is Head Boy? You’ll be sharing a dorm with him?” Hermione could see Ginny’s face turning red. She had always thought that Ginny might have had a crush on the quiet Slytherin, even though she was dating her best friend. Hermione decided not to let this opportunity go to waste. She wasn’t going to let Ginny get to her this year. And she was more than glad that she didn’t have to share a dorm with her this year either. She always heard when Ginny made sly digs about her to Lavender and Parvati, but she supposed that was the point. She was meant to hear what Ginny thought of her. Even sharing a dorm with Zabini had to better than the alternative.

 

“Yes, Ginny. The one and only Blaise Zabini. Do you have a problem with that?” she asked the quietly fuming girl. Harry had turned to look at his girlfriend for her answer. He wasn’t a fool He knew she had harboured some feelings towards Zabini.

 

Through slightly gritted teeth Ginny answered her, “No. No problem.”

 

Hermione looked at Harry and then Ron, “I’ll meet you both in the Great Hall later for the feast.”

 

She walked through the door and as it was sliding closed she heard Ginny say “Snarky bitch,” followed by the bellowing voices of Harry, Ron and Neville shout at the same time “GINNY!” and then Harry, “I told you not to call her that.”

 

Hermione didn’t hear the rest of the conversation as the door closed, and she had already started to make her way to the heads carriage. Once she had reached the door, she took a big breath and steeled herself. _‘Right Hermione, first snake to deal with. The other one can wait until much later.’_ She opened the door and stepped inside. The carriage was nice. It had a desk to her right with two seats in front of it and a green leather sofa opposite, it was decorated in dark wood, and as her eyes drew level with the couch, she noticed Blaise Zabini sitting there. Well sprawled there might be a better word. He was slunk back into the sofa, his legs out in front of him and crossed at the ankle. His left arm was draped across the back of the sofa, and he was looking down at the manicured nails of his right hand. Hearing the door open he looked up and locked eyes with Hermione. She gulped as he smirked at her.

 

“Hello Granger,” he said looking her over.

 

She felt frozen in place for some reason, and she could feel her heart speed up slightly. Narrowing her eyes, looking straight forward, she answered, “Zabini.”

 

“Really, Granger? Is that the best you can come up with?” he asked while standing and moving gracefully toward her, like the well-mannered pure-blood he was.  She backed up into the door as he reached an arm out and tucked one of her curly locks behind her ear.

 

“Your hair is really quite soft isn’t it?” he asked looking down at her and smiling.

 

What was she supposed to say? This is the most she’d ever spoken to him. Even though she was a Gryffindor, she felt her courage leave her. She felt intimidated by the tall Slytherin towering over her. “If you’re trying to scare me Zabini, it won’t work.” She might not of felt courageous at that point but she wasn’t going to let him see that. Best to start out on the right footing with this one and show him she wasn’t scared of him.

 

Blaise took a step back from her and looked at her. Really looked at her. She was stood against the door, her arms pressed back into the door, hands splayed against it. She was breathing hard, her face had gone white and she was staring at him with those wide brown eyes of hers. “I don’t want you to be scared of me Granger. Damn it, I never want you to be scared of me.” he said frustrated, pinching the bridge of his nose and knitting his eyebrows together.

 

“Why did you send me that note?” she whispered looking up at him. He was unnerving her by being so close.

 

Without missing a beat he answered straight away, “I wanted you to know that I was actually looking forward to working with you and getting to know you.” still looking at her, he could tell she looked uncomfortable. “I wanted to start out the right way with you.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Yeah, oh. Bet you thought I had some ulterior motive. Contrary to popular belief, I’m not an arsehole Granger. I’ve never given you any reason to think that I’d give you a hard time, have I?” he asked turning from her and sat back down on the sofa. She could feel tears at the edges of her eyes and she had no idea why. Blaise was extending an olive branch, but she felt scared. She was about to apologise when he beat her to it. Taking a deep breath, Blaise caught her eyes and held her gaze. “Let's start again shall we?” She nodded at him; her eyes held prisoner by his dark brown ones. “Okay then. Hello, Hermione. How are you?” He asked.

 

Breaking his gaze and blinking a couple of times she replied “Hello Bl...Blaise,” she stuttered on using his given name, having never used it before, “and I'm fine, thanks for asking. How have you been?” She asked him pulling herself off of the door and taking calculated steps towards one of the chairs in front of the desk. She took a seat and faced him.

 

Blaise seemed to relax back into the sofa again before answering, “I'm good. I'm looking forward to a fresh start this year to be brutally honest.”

 

“Yeah, I'm kind of looking forward to a trouble-free year at Hogwarts, just for once.” She had a small smile on her face while saying this. It truly would be the only year she wouldn't be getting into all sorts of trouble with Harry and Ron now that the war was over, and Voldemort was no more.

 

They chatted for a bit about what they'd have to do as heads this year before McGonagall had entered the carriage, giving them both a folder containing everything they'd need to get started on their duties. First task was a meeting in the prefects’ carriage, so they could organise them into helping with transporting the students from Hogsmeade station up to the castle. This was the bit she'd been dreading. Coming face to face with the star of her nightmares most nights; Draco Malfoy. As they left the heads carriage to move down to the prefects one, Blaise saw her shiver slightly and watched as she pressed her fingers into her palms, concentrating on simply breathing in and out as calmly as possible. He leant in towards her and whispered quietly, “Don't panic Granger. He’s not here. He won't be arriving until later on tonight.” Blaise leant back to look at her face. She seemed to relax, knowing instantly who he was talking about, but also confused as to how Blaise would think she didn't want to see Malfoy.

 

“I—”

 

“—Don't worry about it, Granger. We don't have to talk about it now. He won't be here until later so just relax and let's go meet with the prefects.” Blaise exhaled and moved forward down the corridor of the train.

 

Hermione was grateful for this piece of news. She probably wouldn't have to see him anytime before tomorrow now. If he wouldn't be here until later tonight, there was a good chance she'd be tucked up in bed, with no chance of running into him anywhere in the castle and wouldn't have to face him until the following morning at breakfast in the great hall. She followed dumbly behind Blaise, lost in thought.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The feast had gone well. Gryffindor had gained four new housemates at the sorting. There were far fewer students this year, old and new. A lot of parents were still wary when it came to sending their children to the place of Voldemort's last attack. With the horrors still fresh in the public’s mind, they wanted to keep their children close to them. Plus the number of them that had lost their lives in the war, meant far fewer students present this term.

 

Hermione had met with Harry and Ron, and they had taken their normal seats at the long Gryffindor table. She'd chatted with Seamus, Dean and Neville opposite her. Harry to her left and Ron to her right. Hermione had felt a little uncomfortable with the animosity rolling off Ginny in waves every time they had caught eyes with each other across the table, the redhead with a scowl on her face. They had listened to the sorting hat sing a song about new beginnings and forgiveness, but Hermione had tuned out of it halfway through. After the feast had finished, she had said goodbye to her two best friends, promising to meet them for breakfast in the morning. She and Blaise had overseen the prefects getting the students to the right houses and then had made their way to their new shared accommodation. The walk to the sixth floor was enjoyable, both of them making small talk about the night’s festivities and their head duties.

 

Once they'd reached the portrait McGonagall told them to go to they looked up at it. The headmistress hadn't told them who it would be, just where it was, so they were both surprised to see Professor Snape scowling back at them both. Hermione and Blaise looked at each other in shock before she began to giggle at her own shit damn luck. She had a Slytherin for a roommate. Said roommates best friend was the worst Slytherin of all and now she had to face the professor that had hated her the most during the six years he had been her teacher. True, he'd been on the side of light during the war, spying on Voldemort for the order but he still wasn't a pleasant person to be around or to talk to.

 

“What, may I ask are you giggling at Miss Granger, Mr Zabini?” Came the stern voice of Snape.

 

They both stopped their giggling and straightened up to look at him before Blaise answered, “even now when you're, no offence here, but dead, we’ll still have to deal with you everyday.”

 

Still scowling at them and then looking skyward Snape muttered.” Just give me the password and be on your way.”

 

“Forgiveness,” Hermione said quickly, and they both rushed inside away from the scowling professor as the door opened. She thought she heard Snape say “and let's hope you have some Miss Granger, for all our sakes.” As the door swung shut behind them. 

 

They both stood just inside the door and took in their new accommodation. To the left was a seating area surrounding a huge fireplace. One long dark green couch was facing the fire, with an ornate looking wooden coffee table in front. At either end of the table was a comfortable looking maroon armchair. Big enough to fit two people by the looks of them. On the walls on either side of the fireplace were floor to ceiling bookshelves. To the right of where they stood, was a small kitchenette with a sink, cupboards above and a small table. To the left of the kitchenette was a large table for studying, above the table attached to the wall were ten pigeon holes. One for each of the prefects and one each in the centre for Hermione and Blaise. Opposite them were three doors. The Gryffindor emblem was on the left door, a Slytherin one on the right and the door in the middle they guessed was the bathroom. The whole room was warm and cosy, decorated in cream coloured walls and plush rugs scattered around on the wooden floor.

 

“I’m going to unpack,” Hermione said looking over at the tall, dark Slytherin stood next to her, before moving off towards her room.

 

“Yeah okay, Granger. Catch you later.” Blaise replied moving towards his room. Once they were both at their doors, they turned to each other, smiling shyly before entering their respective bedrooms.

 

Hermione leant against the back of the door once she closed it and exhaled deeply. She didn't know what to think and was bit overwhelmed by everything. Was Blaise being genuine? She didn't know. She hoped so. And Ginny. What was she going to do about the redhead? Shaking her head, not wanting to think about it anymore she pushed off from the door and took in her new bedroom. In front of her stood a four poster bed made up with red and gold bedding, either side were bedside tables with a small arched window above each one. To the right was the door leading to the shared bathroom with a small desk and chair to the right of the bathroom door. Over on the left wall was a fireplace and a comfy looking seat. Perfect for curling up on with a good book and to the left of the fireplace was a small wardrobe and chest of drawers. Her trunk had been placed at the end of the bed. She walked over to it and started to unpack, thinking about what Blaise had said about making a fresh start with each other. That wasn’t really a problem for Hermione. It was his best friend she was nervous about. After about an hour, Hermione had just finished putting some books on on the two shelves above the desk and needed a drink.

 

As she opened her door, she came face to face with Draco who was just walking through the portrait door grumbling about Snape by the sounds of it. She froze, and he froze when he saw her standing there. They were both looking at each other with wide eyes on both of their faces. Hermione’s heart was racing, her palms felt clammy, and she was breathing heavy. She hadn’t expected to see him tonight. She watched as he gulped and ran a hand through that blond hair of his.

 

“Gr...Granger,” he stuttered.

 

She just kept looking at him, unable to form coherent words in his presence.

 

“Not even going to speak to me?” he asked, his eyes alighting with she didn’t know what; anger, bewilderment, indecision, regret, terror? He took a step toward her and Hermione stopped breathing. A rush of memories washing over her, Bellatrix marking her with the dagger, Malfoy’s face when she’d looked at him from the floor. Her head started to spin as he walked towards her.

 

 _Shit!_ She was going to pass out. Her eyes full of terror as he stepped in front of her. The air felt thick and she couldn’t get a breath. Her eyes were wide, the colour had drained from her face and her heart felt like it was going to explode out of her chest.

 

“I just want to talk to you,” Draco said softly, not wanting to frighten her any more than she looked. She looked utterly terrified of him. Frowning, he reached out a hand to her.

 

Hermione knew she was falling before it started to happen. The last thing she heard was Draco shouting “GRANGER!” just as her world went black.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! x


	3. Apologies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hermione receives apologies from a pair of snakes and the story of how those two snakes ended up together.
> 
> Massive thanks to SaintDionysus for beta-ing for me. If you haven't checked her work out yet, I suggest you do. It's amazing x

 

THIS LIFE

_____________________

Chapter Three

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Apologies

________________________________

 

 

 

Hermione could feel herself slowly coming back to consciousness. As her eyes opened, she wondered where she was. There was a soft blanket laid over her from the waist down. She could see a glow from the side and felt warm air wash over her face. Looking to her right, she saw a fire roaring and the beautifully designed coffee table in front; she realised she was on the couch in her common room. She heard someone clear their throat, and her head snapped over to where she heard the noise. Eyes wide and panicked she saw Blaise sitting in the cosy armchair to the left of the coffee table.

 

“What happened,” she croaked, raising her head.

 

“You collapsed in front of Draco. He stopped you falling to the floor and placed you on the sofa. We thought it best that he leave. Didn't want you freaking out when you came to.” He told her.

 

“Why aren't I in the hospital wing? Surely if someone passes out for no reason, you take them to Madam Pomfrey.” Hermione inquired quietly. She tried to sit up, but the room started to spin. She fell back against the arm of the chair, a pillow under her softening the blow.

 

Blaise moved from the armchair and sat on the edge of the coffee table in front of her. “Draco told me what happened. After I had heard him shout your name, I came straight out of my room to see what was going on. I've seen enough panic attacks to realise what was happening and knowing you; I knew you'd be mortified to wake up in the infirmary.” Blaise explained to her. He leaned forward, his arms resting on his thighs, “care to tell me what made you faint Granger?”

 

Hermione raised her eyes in surprise at that last comment. She would've been horrified to wake up in the hospital wing and was shocked that Blaise would know that about her. “I...I don't want to talk about it, to be honest.” She replied shyly, her eyes downcast. “How long was I out for?”

 

“Only a few minutes.”

 

A few minutes? What? That hadn't happened before! Maybe she needed to speak to someone about this.

 

 

Hermione tried to sit up again and got into a sitting position without the dizziness. She looked at Blaise. He had a concerned look on his face and seemed genuinely worried. She'd never passed out before from a panic attack. It was too much seeing Draco like that, It'd been a shock, and she'd froze and panicked. Hermione knew she was going to have to get over this. Draco and Blaise were best friends. Draco didn't seem to have anyone else so she knew he'd be around a lot, which brought her to her next question.

 

“Why was he here Blaise?”

 

His face took on a guilty look. “While you were in your room, I told Snape to let him in if he turned up tonight. I thought you'd gone to bed. I'm sorry Hermione. I didn't realise you felt so strongly about him.”

 

She sighed and pulled her hand through the tangle of curls at the back of her head. “It's fine Blaise, honestly.”

 

Blaise knew it was far from fine; he wanted to know why she felt so strongly about Draco. Ok, the boy had bullied her and been a complete sod to her for nearly her whole school life at Hogwarts, but to pass out shaking and scared just because he’d said he wanted to talk was not right.

 

“I want to understand why you had that reaction at seeing him. Please, Hermione, tell me. I promise I won't tell Draco a word you say to me. I know you don't have to trust me, but you can, I promise.”

 

He sounded so sincere, and he’d been nice to her so far. She felt comfortable around him, and so she told him some of why she had reacted like that.

 

She turned to face him and placed her legs on the floor, her and Blaise’s knees were almost touching. She sighed and rubbed her hands over her face.

 

“It’s to do with what happened at Malfoy Manor a few months go,” she started, “Has Malfoy told you what went on there?” Hermione asked him looking at his face for a reaction. She was good at reading people and looking for signs of truth on their faces.

 

“He has told me everything, Hermione. About how you, Potter and Weasley were caught by Snatchers and brought to the Manor. How he’d been called to identify you all, and didn’t. He also told me exactly what happened with Bellatrix and how Dobby saved you all.”

 

She winced at hearing the witches name, as she always did. Thankfully her friends knew better than to mention her. “Anything else,” she enquired.

 

“Like what?”

 

“Nothing, I suppose, that’s it. I’ve been having some terrible nightmares and panic attacks since then, and all I see is Malfoy standing there looking down at me while I was being tortured. He did nothing to try and help me, Blaise. Nothing. He just stood there and watched, like he was almost frozen. I’ve been at school with him for six years and I know we have an awful relationship, but I didn’t think he’d want to see physical harm done to me.” It was evident to Hermione that Draco hadn’t been aware of what Bellatrix had done to her arm, or she was sure Blaise would’ve mentioned it. She was very careful about keeping it covered. Even with the witch in question now dead, the scar left on Hermione was still very red and permanent. She felt so ashamed of it and was reminded of what had happened to her every time she looked down at it. She had been to visit various healers over the summer, and they’d all said the same thing. There was no way to get rid of it. The dagger had been imbued with old magic, and they didn’t know how to remove the curse, so she was stuck with it. She certainly didn’t want Malfoy or Blaise knowing.

 

“I’m so sorry Hermione. I’m sorry you had to go through that; but, I think you need to hear Draco out. There’s so much more than you know about what happened that day.” she was about to answer, but he cut her off, “I know you want me to tell you, but it’s not my place to do so. Draco wants to talk to you himself. But know this Hermione. What happened to you that day has left him bruised and ashamed, he did everything he could to stop what happened, but forces bigger than him prevented his getting you out of there. You’re right, your relationship with him has been sodding awful thus far. I know he bullied you and called you all sorts of vile names, but I know for a fact, he’d never harm one hair on your head. He’d kill me for telling you all this, but the man suffered himself during the war, and what happened to you, broke him.” Blaise let out a deep breath at the end of his speech and looked deep into Hermione’s eyes to see if she’d taken on board what he’d just said.

 

Hermione didn't understand what she’d heard from Blaise. It was a different account of things to what was running through her mind. She did believe him, but things were so ingrained in her psyche about Malfoy, she didn’t know if she could have a conversation with him about everything.  She looked up at Blaise, her eyes were full and frightful and filled with confusion.

 

“I don’t know Blaise. I just don’t know if I can face him,” she sighed. She was at a loss on what to do. Her thoughts and feelings were all over the place. It was making her feel disjointed like she was outside of her body watching herself. She was Hermione Granger, she always had a plan and knew what to do—she felt so lost right now.

 

Blaise leant forward and grabbed both of her hands up into his and held them while looking at her. She tensed and then relaxed when she felt his thumbs rubbing across the back of her cold hands.

 

“Hermione.”

 

She looked up at him as he called her name. Her big inquisitive eyes were staring into his warm, dark ones. He smiled at her, and she saw the corners of his eyes crinkle slightly, giving his face a boyish look. Somewhere in the back of her clouded mind, she noted that Blaise was a good-looking wizard.

 

“Yes,” she whispered.

 

“This year...we really...we need to start afresh. I don’t mean you and me, as we didn’t have anything to do with each other, so as far as I’m concerned, we have a blank canvas on trying to build a friendship; but, Draco...you need to speak to him. I think it would be good for you to clear the air with him. He’s not the enemy Hermione.” he reassured her by squeezing her hands and smiling at her again.

 

She still didn’t know how to sort through the thoughts running riot through her mind, but she wanted this for Blaise. To see him smile at her like that again. It left her with a warm, calm feeling that she liked. She had an idea that she and Blaise could become good friends. She pulled her hands from his grasp and stood up. He moved at the same time to make sure she wasn’t going to fall after her episode.

 

“I’m going to bed Blaise. Thank you for today.” she walked off towards her bedroom. As she opened the door, she heard him speak.

 

“I’ll make sure you don’t have to see him tomorrow Hermione, but please, think about what I’ve said.”

 

Without looking back, she muttered “I will,” and stepped into her room closing the door quietly behind her.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Hermione loved to get up early whenever she could and sit by the Black Lake to see the sun rise over the mountains. It was so peaceful at this time of day. She could forget about everything and just let herself be. This morning found her sitting in her usual spot, not far from the water’s edge and thinking about what Blaise had said the night before last. So Draco wanted to speak with her, but she still didn't know why. It left her feeling apprehensive. Blaise had said that Draco didn't have any intention of causing her harm or upset, but it also wasn't for him to say why Draco wished to talk to her. Blaise had been nothing but nice to her since meeting him on the train, and she had no reason to doubt him. Was that only two mornings ago, the train ride back to this place? She felt like she'd been back at school for weeks rather than two days.

 

As promised by Blaise, she hadn't seen Draco in the Great Hall at all yesterday, and in classes, she'd been the first there and had sat at the front. She knew he'd take his usual place at the back of the room and he had obviously rushed out as soon as the lesson had ended. She hadn't had to interact with him or see him at all. She knew she would have to listen to what he had to say as he was Blaise's best friend and Blaise had told her he would like for her to be comfortable enough around Draco to allow him to spend time in their common room. She sighed while mulling this all over in her head.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Draco crossed the still dark expanse of ground toward the lake. Blaise had told him he would probably find her here and warned him to go easy on her. As he neared the water, he could just make out the shape of her, sitting straight with her legs crossed, her back to him and her long curls cascading down across her shoulders. She had her head tilted up, looking at the orange, yellow, red and purple light of the sky slowly erupting behind the lowest mountain top and starting to bathe everything in a dark golden glow. Subconsciously she seemed to be pulling blades of grass from the ground and letting them fall. She looked to be deep in thought. He approached her slowly not wanting to startle her. As he closed the space, standing just behind her right shoulder, he quietly called her name.

 

“Granger.”

 

Her head spun at the sound, her warm brown eyes rising to connect with his cold grey ones. She felt her breathing quicken slightly, but she managed to keep it under control. She wouldn't pass out this time.

 

“Malfoy,” Hermione sighed, turning her head back to the sunrise. The curved edge of the sun was now just visible against the ridge of the mountain and reflecting across the lake.

 

“May I sit?” he asked.

 

Blaise was right; she needed to do this. Have this talk with him, if anything she had to report back to McGonagall about him. But more than that she was a little curious on what he had to say to her. Seven years of bad blood between them both. She wouldn’t have a clue how to begin to start being civil with the arrogant wizard. Thinking about this for a minute before answering, “Sure Malfoy, take a seat.” Not moving her gaze from the rising golden orb, that was slowly making it’s way over the peaks of the mountain range, up towards the sky. The light was slowly moving across the lake towards her. She felt Malfoy move and take a seat on the ground to her right. She peeked at him from her peripheral vision. He sat around five feet from her, he had his knees pulled up against his chest, and his arms wrapped loosely around his lower legs. She didn’t say anything. She just kept staring at the moving light and pulling blades of grass between her fingers. They sat like that in silence for quite a few minutes before she heard him sigh.

 

“I don’t know where to start,” he stated quietly, not wanting to disturb the peace or calm he felt seeping into him. He seemed to relax a little and moved, so he was also sitting cross-legged, his hands resting on his thighs.

 

Realising what she was doing with the grass, she pulled her hands up to her lap and turned her head to him. “Why don’t you start at the beginning Malfoy. You obviously have things to say to me, although - I’ve rung my brain the last couple of days thinking about what you have to say. Unless it’s some jibe or rude remark about my blood and inferiority, what could you - Draco Malfoy - great pure-blooded, egotistical, arrogant bully have to say to the much-hated Mudblood?” she asked him, her voice growing louder. The silence had been killing her and the tension within had reached breaking point by the time he had spoken. She deflated a little looking at his face. He looked anguished, upset and guilty and had clearly cringed at her words. His brows pulled together; he took a deep breath in before speaking.

 

“I...I...Just wanted to...you know...say….” he scratched the back of his neck and brought his hand around to rub at his face. He turned to look at her, “Shit, Granger. I just wanted to say sorry ok? I’m so sorry for everything.” Draco said it so quietly and quickly, Hermione thought she’d misunderstood at first.

 

“I’m sorry?” she asked incredulously, “Did you just apologise to me?”

 

Still looking at her, he saw her cheeks were flushing a pale rose colour, and her wide caramel eyes sparked bright with shock. He was determined she should know just how sorry he was. For every slight, he’d thrown her way, every mean look, for choosing the wrong side during the war, for not doing more to help her at his home. He just wanted to say everything that was hammering at his chest to get out, but the words wouldn’t come. He was warring with himself. An internal battle of how much to give away at this point. He certainly didn’t want to frighten her off, but he also needed her to know one hundred percent, that he would never cause her harm or upset ever again. In fact, he’d rip apart ANY bastard who tried.

 

“Yes, Granger. That’s what I said. I’m sorry for everything that’s happened between us since the first day we met. I realise what a prat I was, and continued to be for the next seven years.” He didn’t let his gaze drop from hers. She had to know he was sincere about this.

 

Hermione couldn’t believe it. Somewhere deep inside her, she knew what he was saying was the truth and he really did mean it. She couldn’t understand why she knew, but she did. A feeling she was unfamiliar with was settling within her, and for once it wasn't revulsion. She found herself relaxing to some extent with the weight of his apology. Hermione thought about how hard that sorry must’ve been for him to say. But — it still didn't excuse his behaviour at the manor that fateful day.

 

“I accept your apology, Malfoy. I do.” She said staring at him. Still, a bit bewildered by this conversation. It was not what she was expecting. “But…. I just can't forgive you. What happened that day with your aunt, you didn't even try to help me Malfoy. Why? Why didn't you do something? Do you hate me that much that you stood there and watched as she crucio’d me again and again, and then…” she broke off.

 

Draco felt everything inside him slowly seep away, hope, belief, a chance for a better future. It was all ebbing away with her words. “And then what Granger? What were you going to say?” There was more to it, but he didn't know what. Instinctively she wrapped her fingers around her left forearm just at the crook of her elbow. The action didn't go unnoticed by Draco. His eyes drifting to her jumper covered arm.

 

“Nothing,” she replied, “It's nothing.”

 

Not wanting to push her after what happened the other night, he decided to let it go for now. “Granger, there's so much about that day that you don't understand. You don't know the whole story.”

 

She instantly felt a swath of anger pulse through her. How dare he. How dare he try and justify himself like this. With her heart beating wildly and breathing fast, she started in on him furiously, “Tell me then Malfoy. What exactly do I not understand? Was it the bit where I was lying on your ballroom floor being tortured and enduring the worst pain of my life? Or being called the vilest names while you just stood there like a coward and did nothing? What don't I understand?” she was trying to keep her temper under control, but like the rest of her emotions over the last few months, she was having trouble trying to contain it.

 

Seeing her eyes flare with fire and her cheeks inflame red, he decided to try a different way, “Granger, please, I'm not ready to talk about it and trust me when I say, you don't want to hear it. Not yet. One day, soon, you and I can sit down together and have this conversation, but not right now. I just wanted to come down here, apologise and hope to Merlin that we can come to a truce between us. The war is over. We’re finally free, and I wanted this last year at Hogwarts to represent a new start. I can't do that with all the still present animosity between us.”

 

Hermione could feel tears welling up at the corners of her eyes, her anger subsiding at his words. She didn't want to cry in front of him, but this conversation was dredging up too many memories of horrible things she wanted to forget. How could she move forward with this man when he'd been the cause of so much pain and anguish in her life. Hermione believed he was sorry but so much had happened.

 

He had interrupted her thoughts before she had a chance to answer him. “Granger, we need to move forward now. We need to let it go. Everything that's happened, all of it. We both need this fresh start.”

 

“How?”

 

He knew that question would be next and honestly; he didn't know, so he said the first thing that popped into his head. As soon as he'd said “I don't know…but…I want to try,” he knew it was the truth. He did want to try and move forward. He wanted to gain her trust and for her to become his friend before anything else.

 

“I don't know Malfoy.” She answered him nervously. She'd need some time to think about everything he had said.

 

“There's something else Granger.”

 

They hadn't broken eye contact through this whole conversation until now. Draco sighed and looked out over the lake, thinking how beautiful the sunrise was and regretting not spending more mornings out here appreciating it during his time at Hogwarts. It really was breathtaking. He'd spent too many nights to think about staring at the sunset from the astronomy tower during sixth year. But he’d never seen the sunrise—and not from the edge of the lake sitting next to Hermione Granger, almost begging for forgiveness. Like Hermione, he was really going to miss this place. Up until sixth year, he'd felt safe here. Something else to add to the list of disappointments in his life.

 

Tentatively she asked him, “What else is there Malfoy?”

 

He sucked in a breath feeling the cold air travel through his chest. “Ok Granger, let me start by saying, that, even though I know you don't trust me and I'm going to have to prove to you that you can, I do trust you.”

 

“What?” She asked him disbelieving. He was right. She didn't trust him at all. She didn't even like him. How could he trust her with whatever he was about to say?

 

Reading her like one of her beloved books he continued. “Yes, Granger that's right. I trust you with what I'm about to tell you. I know you're a private person and would keep my secret. You're not a gossip.”

 

She nodded in his direction, actually lost for words for once. How did he know her so well? It left an uncomfortable sensation inside her. Hermione could feel her heart rate increase slightly. He turned his head to look at her once again.

 

“It's Blaise. Most people just assume that he and I are just friends, but it's more than that.” He dropped his gaze to the ground picking blades of grass just like she had when he'd walked up to her. He was nervous about this.

 

“Malfoy, if you're about to tell me that you and Blaise are… together, then there's no need. I figured it out fifth year,” she smiled at him to let him know it was ok.

 

Draco was lost for words. He should have figured that she’d know and obviously hadn’t said anything. “How?” he whispered.

 

“Wasn’t hard to figure out. Anyone with a brain could see it. The looks you two give each other and how close you are. I’m surprised no one else has noticed. It’s uncommon for Slytherins to act that way, yes?”

 

“Erm...Yeah, I...I guess so. I feel like I should explain the situation to you.”

 

She thought about this for a minute. Did she want Malfoy opening up to her about any aspect of his private life? The last thirty minutes had been some of the strangest in her life. First an apology, now this. Decision made, she answered him, “You don’t have to tell me anything. I’ve known for over two years. I haven’t said a word, even when I so easily could’ve, every time you were nasty to me the thought popped into my head to out the pair of you, but you got me figured out correctly, Malfoy. It’s not my business to be blurting out to anyone. Whatever has happened between us I wouldn’t lower myself to that level for petty revenge. Anyway, Blaise has never been openly hostile to me. He doesn't deserve that sort of treatment.”

 

Draco smiled at this. Blaise was his complete opposite. The man was a Slytherin and could be as cunning and manipulative as he could, but he would never do anything to hurt Hermione. In fact, every time Draco had a run-in with her over the years, Blaise would chastise him for it. Draco felt like he wanted to tell her about himself and Blaise, but maybe not right now. “As I said earlier, I want us to start again and begin putting our terrible past behind us. I want you to feel comfortable around me because I need Blaise and he’s sharing living quarters with you. I just...I want us to be amicable at least Granger. I can’t have you passing out every time you see me. Doesn’t do much for the confidence, you know? Take some time to think about it, as I know you will.” he winked at her and Hermione felt her cheeks warm up a little.

 

Was the man for real? Less than forty-eight hours ago she collapsed in front of him thinking he was going to hurt her. Now, he’d apologised, wanted to be her friend, and confided in her about the nature of his relationship with Blaise. She felt overwhelmed and couldn’t get a grip on her thoughts or emotions. They were outside and she felt claustrophobic, she needed to get away from him and think. Standing up she looked at Draco, still sitting there. He was very intently staring up at her. “I need to think, Malfoy. About everything you’ve said, ok?” she asked him.

 

“Yes, of course, Granger. I had a feeling you were going to say that anyway. If you want to talk some more, about anything, let me know alright?”

 

“Err… yeah, sure, I’ll…do that.” she picked up her bag and started to walk back towards the castle while Draco stayed sitting on the grass watching the sunrise. It had lightened considerably in the time they had been talking. The sun had risen high into the sky, and the warm light glowed across the lake. She turned back towards him, “Malfoy?”

 

He spun his head towards her, curious to hear what she had to say. “Yeah.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

His forehead creased in confusion.

 

“For the apology. Thank you. It means a lot. I’ll be in the library tonight, so feel free to drop by the heads room to see Blaise if you wish.” She gave him a small departing smile before turning and making her way back.

 

Draco breathed a deep sigh of relief. That conversation had gone better than he’d ever expected. It was going to take time for her to trust him and to try and move forward into a friendship with him. He could wait, though. He was a Slytherin after all, and would patiently wait for her. Blaise had put some good groundwork in for him with Hermione; he had tried to make him seem not so monstrous. She’d opened up to Blaise two nights ago after her fainting episode, and Blaise had told Draco what she had said, about her nightmares and how he had featured in nearly every one of them. He’d never forgive himself for that and had to begin making it up to her somehow. Draco heard the bell ring to signal breakfast. Standing up and brushing down the backs of his trousers from the damp grass he started to walk back towards the castle. He began to think of Blaise and how they’d come to be in a relationship.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

_ Three years ago _

 

_They'd been friends for as long as Draco could remember. He couldn’t think of a single memory memory that didn't have Blaise in it. Draco’s mother Narcissa was good friends with Blaise's mother Elena, and they’d spent a lot of time at each other's homes over the years. Elena was a wealthy and beautiful Italian witch that men fell head over heels for, hence the reason the woman was on her sixth marriage. Draco didn't understand why the women were friends as they had nothing in common— yet, their friendship had lasted this long._

_Draco fondly remembered lots of holidays spent at the Zabini villa on the outskirts of an Italian wizarding village called Lipomo. It was only a few miles from Lake Como which was gorgeous and an hour away from the muggle city of Milan.  The villa was enormous and tucked into the hillside and very secluded. Those times were some of the best of Draco's life. His father never accompanied them on these trips, and Draco felt free to be himself there. He laughed at himself as he recalled Blaise catching him kissing a girl against a tree in the spacious grounds of the villa. He was only fifteen, and the young witch was named Mikaela. She was the daughter of one of Blaise's mother's friends and had been visiting that day. As his arms had slid around her waist and he leant in to deepen the first kiss he'd ever had with a witch, he heard Blaise shout, “Draco, get your hands off of her. My mother will kill you if she finds out.”_

_He reluctantly released the witch who stood there pouting at him for having stopped the kiss. “Sorry sweetheart. You heard the man. Run along now.” He smirked at the girl. His plan to make Blaise jealous had worked perfectly judging by the look on his face. Draco had been developing feelings for his best friend over the past few months, and he was sure Blaise felt the same way, Draco was just a little more forthright with showing it than his friend. Blaise was in denial, Draco was sure of it, so his reaction at catching him kissing the cute witch had left Draco with a half-smile, half smirk plastered on his face. The girl, Mikaela, had ‘tsked’ at him and stomped away muttering in Italian. Blaise laughed as she walked through the French doors and back inside._

_“What did she say?” Draco asked inquisitively._

_“She called you an English pig,” he answered him, standing there with his arms folded across his chest. “And she'd be right wouldn't she Draco?” He continued, “You are a pig. What do you think you're doing kissing Mya?” Blaise asked him using the girl’s nickname._

_“Why Blaise, are you jealous?” Draco sarcastically asked him back, placing his hand over his heart in a dramatic fashion._

_“Don't be an idiot Draco. I'm serious. What was that all about?”_

_Draco was fed up with this attitude from him. He made it clear how he felt, and Blaise just kept brushing him off. Well, he wasn't going to stand for it anymore. “You know what that was Blaise. That was me trying to make you jealous, and I seem to have succeeded by the anger I can feel rolling off of you.” He said moving away from the tree and towards the boy in front of him. “I want you, and I know you want me. Why do you deny it?” He asked him stepping closer until he was no more than a foot in front of him. He was half a head taller than his friend and stared down into his brown eyes which had widened at Draco's closeness. Draco noticed that Blaise’s breathing had sped up and his breath was coming out in little pants and puffs. He was sure that if Blaise had a lighter skin colour, he'd be blushing like a nervous bride right now._

_“Draco, don't.” he cautioned him._

_“No Blaise. No more ‘Draco, don't’ nonsense. It stops now. Just admit how you feel for Merlin's sake. I can't take it anymore.” He ordered him harshly._

_“What about the other thing Draco, ah? What are we going to do about that?” He asked him. Draco was right, Blaise did want him, but they had a small problem in both of their ways to allow anything to happen._

_“I've told you before,” Draco said reaching out one of his hands capturing one of Blaise’s and bringing it to hold over his heart, “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. I promise.” He whispered his cool grey gaze was staring into the warm brown one of the boy that Draco was sure he loved._

_The next thing he knew Blaise had put both of his hands on Draco's shoulders and pushed him back into the tree he had just been up against. Before he had a chance to say anything Blaise’s lips had come crashing down onto Draco's, their hot breath mingling together. Blaise's lips were soft and wet, and he nipped at Draco's bottom lip for entry. Draco obliged and as soon as his mouth opened, Blaise thrust his tongue inside and began an instant battle for dominance with Draco's. Their hands winding simultaneously around the back of each other's necks. Blaise’s hands travelled up through Draco's soft blond locks and tugged gently forcing Draco's head up. Blaise pulled his lips from Draco's and peppered kisses and licks all along his jaw and down his neck, making his way across his sternum and back up the other side until he had reclaimed Draco's lips in a searing kiss. Heat flared through both of them, and Blaise pushed hard up against Draco, both of their erect cocks rubbing against each other. Their hands were everywhere, sliding down each other's necks, across their chests and around the back of both their arses, grabbing hard into each other. Draco moved his hand around and grabbed Blaise’s cock rubbing him through his trousers. Blaise moaned into his mouth, their lips moving in sync and tongues wrapping around each other. It was raw and animalistic until Blaise suddenly pulled his mouth away from Draco. They stood there facing each other. Both were breathing hard. Draco's face was red, and his eyes were dark, stormy and filled with lust._

_“Blaise,” Draco breathed out between pants._

_“Not here Draco, come with me.” Blaise grabbed his hand and led him through the villa and to his room. They’d spent the rest of the day and night kissing and exploring each other’s bodies. They weren’t ready for anything else at this point. That came a few weeks later when they were hanging out in Draco’s bedroom, discussing their problem and had both got so turned on that one thing had lead to another. They’d both been nervous, so it had been slow and gentle. It had felt like the most natural thing in the world. He didn’t give a shit that Blaise was a man. Draco loved him, and that was all that mattered. After a few weeks of their new relationship, Blaise admitted that he loved him too._

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Draco was still caught up in the memory as he walked into the Great Hall and caught eyes with Hermione Granger. He couldn't help the small grin that spread across his mouth, while she did the same before turning her head  back to her breakfast.

 

 

He and Blaise had been inseparable all of their lives, and now they were even closer. He was the only person in the world apart from his mother, that Draco trusted. He was glad to have him in his life, and now they could both deal with their little problem; making Hermione Granger theirs.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	4. The Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the late update. This chapter took me a long time to write. I know what I wanted to say but couldn't get it out. Anyway, here it is and I must warn you, there are Draco and Blaise lemons towards the end of the chapter. 
> 
> I had Fix You by Coldplay on repeat whilst writing this one! 
> 
> Massive love and thanks to SaintDionysus for her top beta work and to Gryff_inTheGame for feedback. Love you ladies so much x 
> 
> Enjoy and thanks for reading 
> 
> ~coyg_81

THIS LIFE  
~•~•~

Chapter Four

The Plan 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
“So what Blaise? We just make ourselves indispensable to her? Make sure we're always around if she needs us and even if she doesn't? That's your great plan?” Draco asked his lover who was stretched out on the bed. Fuck he has a good body, he thought to himself. Lying there in nothing but his white boxers, his hands under his head tightening those defined abs across his stomach. His crossed legs were toned and tight as were his arms and that chocolate coloured, smooth skin of his was delectable. The man was sex on legs. Those full sensuous lips of his; Draco loved having that warm mouth wrapped around his cock.

He was pulled from his naughty thoughts by the man in question answering him.

“Yes, Draco. That's exactly what I'm saying. She's vulnerable right now, and I don't want Weasley thinking he can break her down and convince her to be with him. You know what a manipulative fuck he is. And of course, there's Weaslette. If that red-headed bitch thinks she can treat our witch the way she has been—then yeah, we need to be around Hermione as much as possible. To make sure Weasley doesn't get into her head and to protect her from the she-weasel.” Blaise said it so matter-of-factly; this should be obvious to Draco. He looked over at his blond-haired lover. Draco was sitting cross-legged, leaning against the left post at the bottom of Blaise’s bed. He was wearing his boxers and a loose Slytherin Quidditch shirt. Running his hands through his fine platinum hair and letting it flop back in his eyes. Blaise loved Draco's hair right now. It was just the right length for running his hands through and grabbing on to as they fucked the living daylights out of each other. Merlin, he loved this wizard so damn much.

“I don't want to overwhelm her, Blaise. She has a lot to think about after our talk this morning. She said she needs time to sort it out in her head. For fuck's sake, I'm the star of her nightmares, and now I only have the next nine months to get her to fall in love with me and —”

“Us Draco. She's got to fall in love with us. Don't forget that. I need that witch in my life almost as much as you do.”

Draco snorted at the interruption and what Blaise had to contribute. Yes, he knew Blaise loved her, but he didn’t think it was in the same way as Draco did. He'd been with Blaise for a long time, and he had no doubt that he loved him and wanted him in his life. But with Hermione it was different. The way his whole body and mind felt when he thought about her or saw her, it was a feeling Draco didn't think he'd ever get used to, but it was certainly one he enjoyed very much. It was overwhelming at times.

From the first time he'd seen her, storming into the Slytherin carriage aboard the Hogwarts Express looking all haughty and with her nose stuck in the air, asking about Longbottom's toad—he'd felt something for her. Being eleven years old he didn't recognise what that was, but she’d certainly made a lasting impression because over the years he often dreamed of her and found himself staring at her across the classroom and Great Hall and any place she happened to be.

Even with all the bullying and prejudice he threw her way; those feelings were still there. He finally recognised what that was when she entered the Great Hall the night of the Yule Ball. Watching her walk in looking so beautiful and on the arm of that thick-headed, Bulgarian Quidditch player, Viktor Krum; Draco was about ready to explode with anger and jealousy. He remembered he’d started walking over to them when Blaise had pulled him back asking him what the hell he thought he was doing.

He hadn't been able to breathe, he was shaking and before Blaise knew what was happening Draco had pulled himself free and through clenched teeth exclaimed he was going for some fresh air. He'd stormed off, and Blaise hadn't seen him for the rest of the night. Deciding to just let him be for a while, Blaise had remained at the Ball and observed Granger for the rest of the evening.

Blaise wasn't stupid. He knew how his best friend felt about her. During their first couple of years at Hogwarts, Draco had mentioned the bushy-haired witch to him so often, Blaise started observing him more closely. More than once — In fact, hundreds of times, he'd caught Draco staring at her when he thought no one was watching. Every time Draco was horrible to her, Blaise could see behind his mask. The haunted look in his eye, after he'd said or done something to her, as she screamed that she hated him and called him a pureblood prick. He knew why Draco did it, but it hurt to see him so upset afterwards.

His father had been telling Draco the same thing his entire life. Muggles were disgusting, diseased individuals and had dirty blood and that witches or wizards born to muggles were most certainly inferior and did not deserve their magic.

So imagine Draco's surprise when he'd found out in his first year the girl he had a certain soft spot for, and who was top of every class they shared together, was a muggleborn. She certainly wasn't stupid, and she definitely didn't look dirty. That summer he'd told Lucius all about Hermione Granger, and he'd received a beating for it. His father was disgusted that a ‘Mudblood’ was top of the class and made it clear to Draco it wouldn't be tolerated.

Even so, Draco continued to be bested and awed by the insufferable muggleborn through the years. Then came the Yule Ball, and Draco knew for certain what he was feeling. Blaise had figured it out by then and had also developed some kind of feelings toward the witch. She had punched Draco in third year over the Buckbeak incident. Even though he'd never say so to Draco, he had deserved that punch. He'd acted like a right git all year, but it had made Blaise sit up and take notice of her. Most people tended to avoid Draco apart from his own house; who treated him like royalty. So it surprised him how unaffected Granger seemed to be towards Slytherin’s prince and how she never backed down from him—She was a little spitfire, alright.

The night of the Yule Ball, after Draco had long since disappeared, he noticed Granger standing by herself. He hadn't meant to walk up behind her and didn't realise what he was doing until he'd already bent down and breathed in her vanilla and honey scent. He shivered at the smell of her. It was intoxicating. He whispered something about how hot she looked in her ear, kissed the soft skin of her neck and sauntered away. He looked back for a reaction and got one. The look on her face was priceless when she realised it was him. She never mentioned it though, and neither had he. Not even to Draco.

  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
Draco and Blaise had never ‘officially’ sat down and spoke about their feelings towards the Gryffindor. Instead, they had come to a mutual, silent agreement to carry on as though nothing had happened. Knowing each other's feelings for Muggleborn Granger only served to bring them closer. By the next summer after fifth year, their relationship moved forward.

They discussed everything that happened over the weeks before with Hermione and her friends storming into the Ministry, and taking on Death Eaters to supposedly rescue Sirius Black. They'd been more than worried when they'd heard about Hermione being hit with a curse from Dolahov. Draco's father was also involved and had been sent to Azkaban.

You could cut the tension at the Manor with a knife, what with Voldemort having taken up residence with his band of deranged Death Eaters. Narcissa had managed to get Draco out to Italy a few days after school had finished.

After Blaise had caught Draco snogging that little tramp Mikaela, their own kiss had followed, they then, finally, spoke about what to do about their feelings for Hermione. Both admitting how they felt about her and how they felt about each other.

Draco had jumped up in excitement as he'd declared, “All we've got to do is make her ours, Blaise. Not yours, or mine, but ours. By Merlin, whatever this is,” he gestured, waving his hand between himself and the slightly shocked wizard sitting on the bed, “it's real, Blaise. You and me together with Granger. It's perfect. That's the plan—make Granger ours.”

Blaise had to agree with him, but before they could come up with a single idea on how to make that happen, Draco and his mother had been summoned home by Voldemort. Blaise had wanted to go with him, but Draco refused and told him he'd see him soon.

By the time Blaise had seen Draco again some weeks later, everything had gone to shit. Draco now bore the sickening Dark Mark on his left forearm and a task to kill their Headmaster as soon as was possible. That first night back Blaise had just held Draco on his bed and let him cry.

As dawn was breaking the following morning, Draco had pulled out of Blaise’s embrace and stared hard at him, with a scary and determined look on his face.

“Whatever happens now… Whatever happens next, with this,” he spat pointing at the vile snake and skull tattoo adorning his once porcelain skin. “We keep her safe. No matter what, we keep her safe Blaise.”

Blaise didn't even think before answering, “of course, Draco. We do everything we can to keep her safe, no matter what might happen.”

They were both scared and got each other through the next year. Blaise knew Draco had to fix that fucking vanishing cabinet. If he didn't do as Voldemort had asked, Draco would be watching his mother's slow, and painful demise — he'd been promised that.

War had followed, they lost all contact with Granger once she disappeared with Potter and Weasley. They didn't know where she was or if she was alright— until the night they'd all been brought to Malfoy Manor, and Draco had been called to identify them. He couldn't give a shit about Weasley, but if he identified him, then crazy Aunt Bella would know who the other two were. He didn't like Potter any better but knew he was better off alive than dead. If rumours were true, he was the only one able to kill old snake face. As for Hermione, he was just glad she was alive. He'd almost sagged in relief upon seeing her but then remembered why they were there. They'd been caught by a group of Snatchers. He remembered the look on her face and how scared she had been. The memories began to assault his scarred mind before Blaise pulled him back to the present.

  
“So what happened this morning? At the lake? You haven't said a word about it all day.” He enquired quirking an eyebrow at him. He couldn’t ignore Draco's sullen mood he’d been in since breakfast.

Draco sighed and ran his runs through his hair again; a subconscious habit. “I...I couldn't get the words out, Blaise. Fuck, it was all there. Everything that happened at the Manor, how I felt, everything. And then when I sat down and noticed her looking at me I couldn't say it. In the end, I just blurted out that I was sorry. Sorry for everything from the very first insult eight years ago right up to now.”

“Blimey Draco,” Blaise exclaimed letting out a loud breath, “How did she react to that?”

“Well, she was — unsurprisingly — shocked, and after a while of her thinking about it she actually accepted my apology if you can believe that?” he asked Blaise, still a little shocked himself at the witches unrelenting and forgiving nature.

“Wow.” He exclaimed. “She’s extraordinary isn't she?”

“She is something else, that's for sure. But —,” he sighed, “ She said she couldn't forgive me for what happened at the Manor.”

Draco stood from the bed and began pacing as Blaise watched him.

“She wanted to know why I didn't help her. I couldn't tell her. Not right then. She's not ready to hear it yet. I don't want to confuse her anymore. She's pretty fragile right now. And oh, I forgot about this part. Get this, she knows about us—”

“—WHAT?” Blaise bellowed interrupting him and brought himself to a sitting position in the middle of his bed. Draco stopped and faced him.

“I told you I might end up telling her about us. She's got to get used to the idea of the both of us at some point.” He stated, rolling his eyes at his man, before continuing his pacing backwards and forwards across the room. “Turns out I didn't need to. She already knew. Little swot figured it out in fifth year and hadn't told a soul.”

Blaise raised his eyebrows in wonder at this news. He might have guessed actually. She really wasn't one to spread gossip.

“Anyway,” Draco continued, “she said she needed time to think and that she'd be in the library tonight so I could be here without any uncomfortableness.”

Draco slunk towards the bed and flopped down face first. Voice muffled by the pillows he said, “What if she can't forgive me?”  
  
Blaise stroked across Draco's back and sighed, “I'm sure she will. You'll just have to do as she asks and give her some space and time to think. Meanwhile, I'll be the confidant she listens and talks to when I gush about how great you are.”

Draco smirked and moved his head, so he was looking at Blaise who had also laid back down. “And so it begins. Day one of the ‘Make Hermione Granger Ours’ plan,” he laughed. Blaise rolled his eyes at him and slapped his arm.

“That sounds so childish, Draco. We're not fourteen anymore.”

Draco pouted at him and stuck his tongue out like a petulant child.

As Blaise turned on his side; Draco cuddled into him from behind, his arm lying loosely across his waist, he sighed.

“What is it, Blaise?” Draco quietly asked him.

“I hope this plan works, Draco,” he sighed again feeling quite melancholy, “I mean, I love you and everything, and I never want to be without you, but, by Circe, we need that witch with us. She's the third part of us, Draco. She's going to complete us.”

“You're telling me something I've known for years, love.” He said wrapping his arm tighter around Blaise’s middle. We’ll just do what we said. With our looks and charm, she won't be able to resist our company,” he joked. Trying to make light of it when really, he was scared. He had a massive amount of hurdles to jump to just get her on friendly terms with him, let alone anything else. He was going to try though. He'd do anything to have her in the middle of them right now, warm in bed and safe in their arms. They were going to fix her and make her better. Between the two of them, they were going to right the wrongs of the past.

  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
Draco couldn't sleep. After his talk with Blaise earlier on they both tried to get some rest, but Draco had just tossed and turned. He couldn't get Hermione out of his head. Their talk yesterday morning had rattled him more than ever. Sighing once again and habitually running his hands through his hair before getting up and sitting on the soft rug by the dying embers of the fire.

“What's wrong?” Blaise mumbled. He hadn't slept too well either. Draco's constant fidgeting had kept waking him up.

“Nothing. Go back to sleep. It's barely morning yet.” Draco whispered without looking away from the fire.

Blaise knew what was playing on his mind. Time to make him think about something else for a little while. Lowering his voice a couple of octaves to that husky tone he knew Draco loved, he commanded him back to bed.

Draco got up from the floor and slid back under the duvet. Blaise turned on his side to face him, propping his head up on his hand, the other running up and down Draco's chest under his t-shirt.

“Let me help you take your mind off things.” He winked at Draco.

A small smirk plastered itself across Draco's face as he half sat up to remove his shirt, which he flung across the room. Blaise moved to straddle his boyfriend's body. Lowering his face towards the blond's lips which he captured with his own. Blaise loved the taste of Draco. Always so fresh and masculine and he had the softest lips. Blaise could spend hours just kissing the man. His greedy mouth took possession of his lovers with a raw, brutal force, but this was for Draco; to take his mind off their witch, and so Blaise moved his lips across Draco's jaw and down the side of his neck, peppering kisses across his collarbone and licking a path down the middle of his chest. He could feel Draco's heartbeat speeding up under his touch and his chest rising and falling rapidly while his hands grabbed at the bedsheets on either side of him.

Blaise moved his tongue down to the edge of Draco's boxers running it back and forth across the waistband before sliding a finger in either side under the elastic; he lowered the boxers down his legs and off from his feet where he let them drop to the floor. Looking over the wizard's toned physique and noticing his already hard cock laying against the bottom of his stomach; Blaise licked his lips and winked at him. Running both his hands along the inside of Draco's thighs while parting them slightly until he had settled himself between them, his left hand cupped his balls and rolled them round. Draco let out a soft moan followed by, “stop teasing me and suck my cock, loverboy.”

Smirking wickedly, Blaise held Draco's cock in his other hand before licking across the slit at the precum that had formed there, before running his tongue down one side and up the other before encasing his hard length in his mouth and moving his lips all the way down Draco's shaft to the bottom. Draco's hips jerked up towards Blaise, and he let out a very audible hiss.

“Fuck, Blaise, your mouth feels fantastic. Now stop teasing me and suck — HARD.” He demanded, overcome with the need to fuck his boyfriend's mouth.

Blaise didn't need any more encouragement and began moving his lips up and down around his hardened prick. Draco grabbed the back of Blaise's head and plunged himself into his mouth as far as he could go. Blaise could deepthroat like no one else. The man didn't seem to have a gag reflex. Draco could feel his orgasm building as he ploughed in and out of that wicked mouth of his.

Blaise held the bottom of Draco's cock and moved his mouth and hand in time together up and down his delicious erection.

“Yes, Blaise,” he hissed. “Harder, more, more, fuck I'm going to come.” He screamed just as his cock exploded his creamy liquid into the back of Blaise's hot, wet mouth.

Like a real pro, Blaise swallowed everything Draco gave to him and licked his lips after. He flopped back down on the bed next to Draco breathing heavily.

“That's better. Thanks love. Your turn?” Draco asked him.

“Mmm yeah, I think I could handle some of that.” He lustfully answered feeling his cock twitch. Just as Draco made a move to cover his lover's hard body with his own, a knock on the door made them both freeze. Turning their heads towards where the intrusive sound had come from, they heard Hermione speak.

“Blaise, I've made you a cup of tea. If Malfoy is in there, there's also one for him out here. I'd like to speak to you both.” She offered.

Staring at each other in shock, they moved to sit up.

“Well, what now?” Draco whispered.

“Now we go out there, have a cup of tea with her and listen to what she has to say. Right?” He asked him. Curious to find out what in the hell she had to speak to them both about.

“Right, right. Ok. Let's get dressed then.” Draco suggested slightly flapping about looking for his boxers.

Blaise laughed at him. “Calm down Malfoy. Let's just stay calm. Whatever she has to say, don't ignite and go off at her,” he warned him before replying to the witch stationed just outside.

“Coming, Hermione,” Blaise called out.

He heard her scatter away from his door before he also rose and got himself dressed. When they were both ready, Blaise grabbed the doorknob, looked over at Draco and said, “Here we go then.” Before opening the door wide to face their witch.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Please leave me a little review and let me know what you think so far x


	5. Truce!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter for you guys. This one has turned into a 10,000 word monster!
> 
> Massive thanks to my girlies Gryff_inTheGame and SaintDionysus for their fabulous Alpha/Beta work. I couldn't do it without you both and our daily giggles give me life x 
> 
> MILD LEMON WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER!
> 
> Enjoy  
> ~coyg_81

THIS LIFE

~•~•~•~

 

Chapter Five

 

Truce

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Hermione felt nervous watching the boys stalk towards the table where she was sitting. When the boys sat down, she noticed that they also looked nervous; not that she knew why. She was sitting at the head of the table and they’d took a seat on either side of her. Taking a deep breath, she was about to open her mouth to speak when Blaise started.

“What’s this all about, Hermione?” he asked gently, looking at her and picking up his cup to sip at his tea. “How did you know how I like my tea?” he asked her quite surprised that she’d made it just how he liked it; strong, no sugar.

“I’m observant Blaise,” she smiled shyly at him while noticing Draco lifting his cup to his lips and looking surprised as well. “Well,” she began, nervously fidgeting with her hands in her lap and smiling at Blaise, “I wanted to tell you both that I’ve thought about what Malfoy and I spoke about yesterday morning, so much so in fact that I was actually quite distracted through classes and pretty much the whole day.” she noticed Malfoy raise an eyebrow in her direction; obviously unbelieving that anything could distract her from classes and learning. “Oh don’t look at me like that Malfoy. It was a pretty heavy discussion and to say I was shocked at your apology would be the understatement of the century. Even Harry and Ron asked what planet I was on yesterday.”

Draco grimaced at the mention of her two best friends. If it came down to it, he could quite possibly stand to be around Potter for short periods of time but he despised Weasley, and he knew Blaise felt the same way.

“Anyway, I’m deviating from the point I’m trying to make,” Hermione continued, blind to the looks the boys were giving each other across the table—looks that said they were possibly not going to like what it was she was going to say to them. “I’ve thought about nothing else for the last twenty-four hours, and I’ve decided that you may be right Malfoy.”

Draco dropped the cup he was holding in shock. “Shit.” he cursed, moving out of the way of the tea falling over the edge of the table towards his lap. He righted the cup and quickly used a scourgify to clean the mess away and sat back down. “Sorry about that,” he gestured, “It was just a surprise to hear you say I was right about something Granger,” he smirked at her.

She gave him a small smile before reaching over for the teapot and began refilling his cup, adding milk and two sugars.  _ Damn, she was observant, _ he thought.

“As I was saying, I think you’re right, Malfoy. The war is over, and it is time to move forward and let it go. I think I’d like to try moving forward by calling a truce with you.” 

He held onto the cup this time even though his hands had started to shake a little. Looking over at Blaise and seeing the shocked look on his face at Hermione’s words, Draco didn’t know how to answer her. Blaise gave him a small nod of his head as if to say,  _ It’s ok Draco. Answer the woman. _

“I don’t know what to say, Granger. To be honest I was kind of expecting you to tell me to go fuck myself.”

Hermione giggled at this. “I’m sure you were. You should have realised by now, that I like doing what people least expect of me.”

“Very true, Granger. I obviously agree with you. We do need to move forward. So what do you suggest?” he asked her sincerely.

“Well, how about, tonight, after the prefects meeting the three of us spend some time here in the common room and get to know each other a little better?” she suggested. She hadn’t thought of this idea until just then; she was going to suggest studying in the library to start with. She wasn’t ready to spend time alone with Draco, but she’d be alright if Blaise were there. He seemed nice and easy to talk to, and she wanted to get to know him better. She was going to have to tolerate Draco, and she would give him this one chance tonight to prove to her that he had meant what he had said yesterday, so maybe the common room was a good idea; just the three of them, without any outside influence. Hopefully, he would be himself around Blaise, and she could maybe see the real Draco —  _ if there was one, _ Hermione thought snidely. 

She had lost all train of thought yesterday except for the conversation between herself and Draco. She was still a little astounded at his apology and then him saying he trusted her, telling her they needed to get on. He had done nothing to help during her torture at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange! But, yesterday he'd been so sincere; she could see it in his eyes. Thinking only about what had happened to her during the war, she never stopped to think about what Draco had been through. He'd let the Death Eaters into her beloved school and had tried to kill their headmaster. The fact that he hadn't been able to go through with it should've made her stop and think.

Thinking it all through yesterday, she realised how horrible it must have been for Draco to be living with that vile monster in his house. He could have been tortured after failing to carry out the Dark Lord’s wishes; his family threatened for good measure. The fact remained though that he'd been a horrible little shit to her for six years: she hadn't seen him during seventh year except for the time at his manor and then the final battle. This year it seemed like he was a different person, but she didn't know if she could forgive him for all that had happened. She was, however, willing to call a truce so Blaise could enjoy having his boyfriend around. The minute he said or did anything untoward to her, she would hex his balls off. She may be feeling fragile at the moment, but she knew she wasn't scared of Malfoy — never had been, and she wasn't going to start now either. 

Blaise brought her away from her thoughts and back to the present. He reached across and took her hand and gently stroked the back of it. 

“Are you sure  _ Cara _ ?” He asked her sincerely, looking for any sign of upset or nervousness. All he saw in those beautiful brown eyes of hers was a steely determination. 

Moving her hand out from under his and placing it in her lap she responded with a sigh, “Yes, I'm quite sure Blaise. Anyway, if the other students can see us getting along it do wonders for house unity. I believe Professor McGonagall is going to be making an announcement at dinner on Sunday about some changes she will be implementing this year and guess what?” She asked both boys looking from one to the other. They both gave her bemused looks. “House unity is at the top of her agenda.” She informed them both. 

Hermione stood from the table and went to collect her school bag from the sofa leaving both boys open mouthed before they seemed to rally. 

“If that's true Granger, let us walk with you to breakfast. Better start this house unity thing off right.” Draco declared, giving her a small smirk. “Plus, I want to see everyone's faces.” He added laughing. 

_ Ever the show-off _ , she thought rolling her eyes. 

“Erm… yes, ok then.” She answered swinging her bag over her shoulder. 

Both boys were out of their seats, grabbing their bags and escorting her out through the portrait hole. All three walked quickly away before Snape piped up at them. It was unnerving having him in that portrait. Hermione knew he wasn't the arsehole she always thought he was and she should probably try and have a conversation with him, but she didn't feel strong enough in herself for that yet. 

Blaise took one side and Draco the other, so she was walking between them. They were chatting about classes and what other ideas McGonagall might be coming up with when they reached the door to the Great Hall. Not even realising as they were talking, silence fell as the three of them entered. 

“Well that's caused quite the scene,” Draco whispered leaning down to Hermione’s ear. She froze at his close proximity but kept a straight face in front of everyone. She wasn't comfortable having him so close to her. 

Blaise, realising her sudden distress also leant down and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek. 

“See you tonight  _ Cara, _ ” he smiled as he pulled his soft lips away from her cheek.

Hermione blushed, and a shiver ran through her. That was the second time he'd called her Cara. She'd have to look up the meaning in the library. Knowing it was Italian, but unfortunately, she didn't know a word of that language. She could feel the heat in her cheeks as she looked at both boys, she smiled and started to make her way over to the Gryffindor table where she noticed Harry watching them intently, Ron who had a fork halfway to his mouth but had seemed to stop its movements to watch her with Draco and Blaise. Then she noticed Ginny’s face. Red and angry and glowering at her. 

Hermione plastered a smile on her face and took her place in between Harry and Ron.  

“Good morning everyone.” She greeted them all brightly, reaching for the Pumpkin juice and some toast. 

“Err, Mione?” Ron started, placing his fork back down on his plate and rubbing the back of his head. 

“Yes, Ronald?” She answered her friend. 

“What was that?”

“What was what Ron?” 

“That, with them two pillocks. Why was Malfoy whispering in your ear and why did Blaise kiss you?” He asked incredulously. 

“I was merely walking to breakfast with my roommate and his friend Ron, and they were saying goodbye.” She didn't look up from buttering her toast. She was wondering herself why Draco had leant down to her and why Blaise had felt the need to drop a peck on her cheek. She noticed Harry watching her closely. 

“But why?” Ron inquired quizzically. 

“Because the Gryffinwhore is obviously sleeping with  one or both of them.” Hermione heard Ginny mutter under her breath. 

Turning her head to face the red-headed girl she asked, “what was that Ginevra?”

Ginny’s face turned scarlet as she realised Hermione had heard her. Ginny didn't care though; she hated Hermione. A bit more loudly she repeated herself, “I said, you're probably sleeping with one or both of them.”

“GINNY!” Ron and Harry shouted at the same time. 

Ginny flinched at the angry way her boyfriend and brother reacted. 

“What? It's probably true. You know what a slut she is. First my brother and then you Harry. Now she's moved onto the Slytherin snakes.”

“For fuck's sake Ginny. How many more times do we have to go over this? Nothing happened between Hermione and Ron or between myself and Hermione. When are you going to learn to accept the truth?” Harry angrily whispered into her ear while standing up and grabbing Ginny's arm to escort her out of the Great Hall. 

Hermione turned to Ron with tears in her eyes, “Ron, why is she always like that with me? I... I don't understand. I've never done anything to her.” 

“I don't know Mione,” he answered while putting his arm around her so she could huddle against his broad chest. Normally she would brush off Ginny's constant insults or scathing looks with a quick retort, but she just didn't feel strong enough. That sodding war had really messed her up. She didn't have enough fight in her right now to fend off Ginny and her cohorts. She could see Lavender and Parvati giggling together further down the table and throwing her mean looks. 

Meanwhile, over at the Slytherin table, Draco and Blaise were quietly seething. 

“I'm telling you now Blaise, that's the last time that fucking weasel bitch is going to treat our girl

like that,” Draco whispered so no one else would hear. 

“I wholeheartedly agree Draco, and I think I've come up with the perfect solution.” Blaise winked at him. Draco smirked back. No one was more cunning or devious than Blaise when he was upset about something. 

They watched as Ron released Hermione so she could stand and make her way out of the Great Hall. She looked over at them, and they both smiled at her with Draco throwing in a sly wink for good measure. Her sad eyes seemed to light up as she shyly smiled back before departing. 

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

After lessons were finished for the day, she walked up to Professors McGonagall's office for their weekly tea and chat. She was sure that the new headmistress would be too busy for this now she had the school to run, but after Transfiguration this morning McGonagall had informed her she'd still like to see her. 

She knocked and heard a quiet, “enter,” from the other side. Hermione opened the door and immediately relaxed at seeing her professor and mentor. 

“Good afternoon, Headmistress.” She said, making her way over to one of the chairs in front of the desk. 

McGonagall looked up from her paperwork to smile warmly at the girl she'd come to care so much about. 

“Hermione,” she greeted her. “Take a seat. I'll be right with you.” 

Once McGonagall had finished her paperwork she looked over at her student. She looked happier and more herself than Minerva had seen her in months. Pouring tea for both of them and passing one over she asked her, “How have you been Hermione? Are you settling back in ok?”

Taking a sip from her cup before answering, “I'm fine, thank you, Headmistress. Classes have been going well, and we have our first Prefect meeting tonight to arrange a patrol schedule and get started on the arrangements for whichever ball we decide to have.” 

“That's fabulous, Hermione, but I want to know how  _ you _ are? How have things been living with Mr Zabini?” She asked. 

Hermione gave it some thought before replying. “Well, I must say I've been quite impressed with Blaise. He seems like a caring person and has been nothing but nice to me. He's looking forward to properly starting his head boy tasks and of course — Quidditch.” She rolled her eyes. 

McGonagall laughed at this. Of course, her favourite student didn't like Quidditch. She had an irrational fear of flying. 

“So you're both settling in well then? That's good to hear. And how about Mr Malfoy? Have you had any interaction with him yet apart from classes?”

She inquired. 

“Well, yes, I've seen him and spoken to him actually. He… he… he apologised to me.” She cleared her throat and avoided McGonagall's eyes as she sipped at her tea. 

“I beg your pardon?” The surprised Headmistress answered back. 

Hermione looked up and caught McGonagall's incredulous stare. 

Placing her teacup on the desk and folding her hands in her lap she continued. 

“He sought me out at the lake yesterday morning and apologised to me. He said he was sorry for everything that had happened from the moment he met me and how he'd like to leave it all behind and for us to move forward. Maybe become friends, but I'm… well, I'm not so sure I can do that.” She watched as McGonagall's face dropped just a little at hearing this. 

“I understand completely, Hermione, but—”

“It's ok headmistress. I told him this morning that I was willing to call a truce with him.” She declared reaching for her tea again. “It seems he and Blaise are quite close and only seem to have each other, so I know Malfoy will want to spend time in our common room. I wouldn't want to be the one to tell Blaise no, so, I called a truce with Malfoy. We can be amicable, I'm sure of it. The war has changed him just as much as anyone else, and I don't think I really understood what he has been through. In fact, I still don't know what happened to him the last year but it can't of been anything good. So I'm willing to give him one last chance to prove to me that he isn't the prejudice bully I've come to know and loathe.” This cheered her mentor up, and she smiled brightly at Hermione. 

“There's the girl I know,” she declared proudly. “I wouldn't blame you if you never gave Mr Malfoy another chance, but the fact that you are willing to try amazes me, Hermione. Truly, you are the brightest witch of your age. You can see logic and understanding where most others can't.”

“Well, we shall see what happens over the next few weeks Headmistress. I’m certainly not making any promises though.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less, my dear.”

They both talked for a little while longer before the dinner bell could be heard and Hermione stood to leave.

“You know where I am if you need anything, Hermione,” McGonagall reminded her. Lifting her heavy school bag onto her shoulder, she smiled at her favourite professor, “Of course Headmistress. Thank you.” she said as left the office and made her way to the Great Hall.

 

She’d noticed Blaise and Draco’s absence during dinner, and was also quite grateful that Ginny had kept her head down at the Gryffindor table and not uttered a word to anyone. She ate her dinner while listening to her two best friends talk about Quidditch and how they had to beat Slytherin for a final time. Rolling her eyes, she stood to leave.  

“Where are you going, Mione?” Ron asked her as she started to pack her things to get ready for the Prefects meeting. 

“We have the first Prefects meeting in an hour Ron, and I'd like to shower and change before then.”

“Shupose that's fair,” he tried to say spitting his pudding in her direction.

“For god's sake Ronald, how many times do I have to tell you not to speak with your mouth full? Your table manners remind me of feeding time at a pig farm.” she said indigently, wiping crumbs from her robes, “And you can stop sniggering as well Harry,” she shot at her green-eyed friend who was laughing behind his copy of the Evening Prophet. 

“Sorry Hermione, but this just feels so normal after everything. You, admonishing Ron over his eating habits. It’s like old times,” he heartedly laughed.

“Yes, well, I’m glad you find it amusing Harry,” she smiled at her best friend. She was happy he seemed to be relaxing more and more every day. “Now, I really must go, ttfn,” she trilled waving her hand over her shoulder as she departed the hall. 

“TTFN? What the bloody hell does that mean Harry?” Ron asked still spitting food across the table.

“‘Ta Ta for now.’ Muggle saying Ron. I’m just glad she seems more like her old self you know?”

“Yeah, definitely mate. I don’t think the situation with my sister is going to help though, especially if Gin can’t keep that big mouth of hers shut. Mione is still fragile, and I don’t think she knows what to do about it.”

“I’ve tried telling her that nothing happened between us. It never would. Hermione is like my sister. I don’t know what to do about Ginny anymore, mate. Do you think it might be worth having a word with your mum about it?” he asked knowing Molly Weasley certainly wouldn't react well hearing the news that her daughter was acting like a complete bitch to the girl Molly thought of as an adopted daughter. 

“Maybe. I’ll write her tonight and explain.”

“Great Ron. Right, I better be going. Got the Prefects’ meeting to attend.”

“Why did you make Prefect again?

“I think McGonagall wanted me to keep an eye on Hermione, now she has to share living space with a Slytherin.”

“Can’t believe she made Zabini head boy!”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure she's got her reasons. Try talking to your sister while I’m gone would you mate? I’ll see you back in the common room later.”

“Will do Harry.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Hermione made it back to her quarters in record time, having not been stopped by anyone for anything. She still had forty-five minutes to shower, change and set up the meeting. She didn’t notice Blaise around so he must be off somewhere with Malfoy. As long as he made it back in time, it would be fine.

She walked into her room and dumped her bag on the floor by her desk and undone the bun that held her mane of hair back all day. She grabbed a towel and made her way over to the bathroom door. Opening the door she was shocked by the scene that greeted her and realised the boys must've cast a silencing charm on the room as she hadn’t heard the water running, but they'd failed miserably with a locking charm. 

Blaise was standing against the back wall of the glass shower. Water was running in rivulets down his toned chest. His head was thrown back against the wall, and his eyes were shut. Whimpers and moans were falling from his lips. Hermione’s eyes travelled south, and there, kneeling between Blaise’s spread legs was Draco. He had his hands on Blaise’s hips, and he was sucking his cock. Blaise's hands were in Draco's hair, and he was guiding his head up and down. She stood there utterly frozen but couldn’t seem to tear her wide eyes away from the scene in front of her. She carried on watching as Draco moved his right hand around Blaise’s hip and grabbed the base of his shaft. He started moving his hand in time with his mouth, up and down. She looked at Blaise’s long dark cock sliding in and out of Draco’s mouth. It was glistening with what she thought would be Draco’s saliva and Blaise’s pre-cum. She gasped suddenly, and Blaise’s eye shot open and met with her’s. He smiled at her and pulled Draco’s head up. 

 

“We have company lover,” he said without breaking eye contact with Hermione.

 

She was breathing hard, her hands were clutching the towel to her chest, and it felt like her heart was going to explode through her ribcage. Without rising, Draco turned his head to Hermione. She looked away from Blaise and down at Draco. His grey eyes were blazing and dark with lust. She felt trapped in his stare. 

 

“Like what you see Granger? Why don’t you join us,” he smirked at her before turning his head back and resuming what he was doing. 

 

Without saying a word she turned and fled from the bathroom. Just as she stepped away, she heard Blaise say, “Too bad. Maybe next time.”

_ FUCK! _ She thought throwing the bathroom door closed and cast a locking charm at it. She threw herself down on her bed and tried to get her breathing under control. 

_ What the actual fuck did I just see? _ She thought to herself,  _ How am I ever going look them in the face again?  _

She spun her head when she heard the doorknob rattle on her side. 

“Granger? Open up.” Shouted Malfoy

“Go away.” She called back. 

“Come on Granger. Prefects will be here in twenty minutes, and we need to talk about this.”

“No, we don't. And I didn't see anything anyway, so go away and leave me be Malfoy.”

“Fine! Be a stubborn wench, but we will be talking about this after.”

“After? After what?” She shouted back again. There was nothing to discuss as far as she was concerned. She could picture him rolling his eyes from the other side of the door (probably) before he answered her again sounding exasperated. 

“After our prefect's meeting, oh smartest witch of our age. Our, getting to know each other time.”

_ Oh, that _ . Damn, she was still going to have to go through with this. She'd suggested it, and she'd look an idiot if she backed out now. Screaming internally at herself she moved from the bed to the bathroom door, unlocked it and threw it wide open. 

Draco stood there against the doorframe with nothing but a white towel around his waist. She didn't mean to - she really didn't, but she couldn't help not leer at the Malfoy heir. He had a very fine body. All pale skin and toned muscle. All that Quidditch, she thought. The noise of him clearing his throat made her blush as she’d been caught looking at him. Feeling her cheeks heat she looked up at him. 

“Well?” He asked, smirking at her embarrassment. 

“Yes, Malfoy, Ok. I hadn't forgotten. Now can you please sod off and put some clothing on?” She asked him averting her eyes from that hypnotic grey stare. What the hell was happening to her? She'd never thought about Malfoy in this way before, or ever for that matter. She'd been thinking about him too much since that damn apology yesterday morning. It was like the man had had a personality transplant. He was so different from the spoilt, arrogant bully she’d known for seven years. She was intrigued to find out more about him. 

“Sure thing, Granger.” he grinned at her as he sauntered back towards Blaise’s room. 

God damn, he had a fine arse, shaking her head to clear the images of a half-naked Draco in her bathroom. Feeling all flustered she grabbed the quickest shower of her life and got dressed in jeans and a soft green jumper, deciding to leave her long curly hair down before taking a deep breath and entering the common room.

She blushed when Draco looked at her over the back of the couch and winked.  _ Bastard! _ She screamed in her head before averting her eyes from him and walking towards the armchair. Some of the 8th year prefects had already arrived and were sitting themselves down at the study table. In all her fury at Zabini being made Head Boy she had forgotten to ask McGonagall who the prefects were, so she was shocked to see Harry sitting at the table next to Lavender of all people. Sitting the other side of Harry was Pansy Parkinson.  _ Can my life get any worse?  _ Hermione wondered. And then Blaise came out from his bedroom smirking at her.  _ Yes, Yes my life can get worse! _ She grabbed her bag from the side of the armchair and made her way over to the others, Draco following behind her and sitting down next to Pansy. 

Hermione sat next to Blaise and was just sorting through her notes when the others arrived. Padma Patil and Michael Corner from Ravenclaw, Susan Bones and Zacharias Smith from Hufflepuff. She looked at Blaise, and he nodded his head for her to start. They had already discussed what needed going over yesterday.

“Hello everyone,” she started. They all turned to look at her. “So, the first order of business is getting the rotas out to you all for patrols which will be starting on Monday. Headmistress McGonagall has given us this first week to all settle back in before normal duties start again.” There were a few groans and sighs at this before she continued. “We have been given permission to hold a ball, and we must all agree on what we want to do — Halloween or Christmas. As it’s a N.E.W.T year and there's so much studying to do, she told us we were only allowed to host one ball and an end of year party on the last Saturday of school.”

They seemed to cheer up at this before the arguing began on which ball to host. Lavender and Susan wanted Halloween while Pansy wanted Christmas. The boys were sitting there looking bored and uninterested.

“Ok, ok, enough,” Blaise shouted to restore order. They all looked at him. “We’ll hold a vote if we can't agree. Hands up for Halloween.”

Lavender, Susan, Michael and Zacharias raised their hands. 

“Christmas it is then, six to four outnumbered. Sorry ladies,” he smirked over at Lavender and Susan. He knew Hermione had wanted to host the Christmas Ball. Even though he and Draco would have preferred Halloween, they wanted to make their Christmas-loving witch happy and give her what she wanted.

Lavender and Susan both huffed, while the boys still looked bored. 

Hermione and Blaise handled the rest of the meeting explaining that their pigeon holes could be accessed anytime between four pm and five pm, Monday to Friday with a special password for them to enter. The door wouldn't open for any prefect after these times. Hermione and Blaise still had their separate password. Patrol schedules were handed out and a date put forward for the next prefects meeting in two weeks time. As they all stood to leave Hermione remembered one thing.

“Before you all go, I should warn you that the Headmistress is going to be making some changes and will be addressing the school about this Sunday dinnertime. She expects you all to co-operate with her and set a good example.”

“What kind of changes,” Susan shyly asked Hermione.

“It’s not for me to say. She’ll make the announcement on Sunday.”

Susan nodded at Hermione on her way out of the door. Harry made his way over to where Hermione was still sitting. 

“Good meeting, Hermione. How you feeling?” he asked her concerned. She’d looked a little nervous having to address everyone, not knowing what she’d stumbled in on before said meeting.

“Fine, Harry. I’m fine. Wasn’t expecting Lavender to be made Prefect though.”

“Yeah, that was a bit of shock when she followed me up here. Also, what's with the portrait? You never told me Snape was your portrait.” 

“I never?—Sorry Harry, had a lot going on since we came back.”

“Like what?” he asked, frowning slightly. He wanted to make sure she was ok, and the snakes weren't giving her any trouble.

“Oh, it’s nothing I can’t handle. Can we speak about this another time? I’ve got notes to write up from the meeting to hand into McGonagall and homework to do. I’ve got to start making plans for the Christmas Ball, and I’ve got to go the library as well.”

 

“I know when you're giving me the brush off Hermione, but we will be talking about it. And soon.” he tacked onto the end. If someone or something were bothering her, he’d find out.

“Sure, sure,” she answered, and he knew he wouldn’t get anything else from her and was being dismissed. She stood up and hugged her best friend before he left the heads common room as well.

Sighing, she turned to face the two Slytherins sitting at the table.

“We can work on the notes for McGonagall in the morning Hermione. No more work tonight, alright?” Blaise asked.

“Blaise, surely—”

“No, Granger,” Draco interrupted her, “Blaise is right. No more work tonight. Now, we are going to move over to the sofa, grab a drink, relax and get to know each other as you suggested.”

 

She frowned at his forceful tone but didn't argue back with him. 

“Well then,” she said packing her notes away and moving over to the seating area, “you’d better get the Firewhiskey out. This evening is surely going to need alcohol.”

 

 


	6. Drunk and Disorderly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for being patient with me while my bitch of a muse buggered off on holiday. She's back now though and raring to go.
> 
> Alpha/Beta love to SaintDionysus and Gryff_inTheGame. Man, I love you crazy Gryffs so much. And my girl SaintDionysus made me fab new artwork for this story. As soon as I figure out to upload art here, I'll share it all with you. 
> 
> Check out these fabulous ladies stories on the links below.  
> https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaintDionysus/pseuds/SaintDionysus  
> https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gryff_inTheGame/pseuds/Gryff_inTheGame
> 
> Now, on with the chapter. What happens when Hermione drinks Firewhiskey with two snakes? Don't forget that this is a slow burn Dramionaise, so don't expect Hermione to be dropping her knickers anytime soon. 
> 
> Happy Reading  
> ~coyg_81

THIS LIFE

~•~•~•~

Chapter Six

 

Drunk and Disorderly 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Hermione sat down on the sofa with her head rested back staring up at the ceiling. Draco had gone to retrieve his secret stash of Firewhiskey and Blaise cleaned up the table of their notes and empty glasses after the Prefects meeting.

 

“Everything alright over there, Hermione?” he asked looking over at her. She seemed to be in a reflective mood—sitting quietly with her thoughts. 

 

“Hmm… Oh… yeah, everything’s fine. Just unwinding you know? It’s felt like a long week so far.”

 

“Yeah, I get that,” he agreed, making his way over and sitting down next to her. 

 

She turned her head to look at him to find him staring at her.

 

“What?” she asked inquisitively, pulling her eyebrows together.

 

“Nothing. I was just thinking how pretty you are,” Blaise answered her honestly.

 

She baulked at this and snorted, “Erm… ok… thanks, I guess.” She wasn’t used to people calling her pretty. The last time anyone had called her that was Harry at the Slug Club Christmas party back in sixth year. She wanted to change the subject, “So how comes Pansy’s been made a Prefect?”

 

“Could ask the same about Potter,” he replied to her sharply.

 

She sank back into the chair and whispered, “Sorry Blaise, I was just wondering that’s all. I didn’t even know she was coming back this year. I heard what happened with her parents.”

 

Blaise watched her shrink into herself after he’d answered her none too nicely.

 

“Shit, Hermione, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to answer like that,” he said guiltily and moved closer to her so he could wrap an arm around her shoulders to hug her. She flinched as she felt his arm snake around the back of her. She didn’t pull away as he pulled her closer until her head was resting on his shoulder. “I'm sorry, ok? I didn't mean it. It's just, me and Draco are close to Pansy, and she's really not the bitch she comes across as. We can get a little defensive over her to be honest.” He answered truthfully. 

 

“I really didn't mean anything by it Blaise, and you're right. There's only one reason Harry was made Prefect, and it has nothing to do with his academic brilliance — or lack of. It was so he could keep an eye on me.”

 

“What do you mean, keep an eye on you?”

 

“McGonagall and I are quite close, and she thinks I can't cope at the minute.”

 

“Can't cope?” he asked puzzled.

 

“Yeah. I don't want to get into it. This is supposed to be a fun night; I don't want to get into the heavy discussion.”

 

“Fair enough,” he responded, keeping what she said in the back of his mind to come back to later. What did McGonagall mean, she couldn’t cope? She was the most accomplished witch he knew.

 

“So anyway, I was more shocked at Lavender being made Prefect. Don't know what McGonagall was thinking there.” She laughed and heard him laugh at the same time. 

 

“That was a strange decision,” Blaise confirmed. 

 

They heard the portrait door open, and Draco walked in muttering under his breath about Snape before looking over at Blaise sitting there with Hermione's head on his shoulder. 

 

“What's going on here then?” He smirked. 

 

“Nothing's going on Draco. We were just waiting for you to come back. Thought we were going to die of thirst, to be honest. You were gone a while,” Blaise responded. 

 

Draco hmm’d at the both of them before moving into the kitchen to fetch glasses for them all. Hermione lifted herself out of Blaise’s embrace and leant back against the sofa. Blaise got up and walked into the kitchenette to speak to Draco. As he entered Draco looked over at him with an eyebrow raised inquisitively.

 

“What was that all about?” he whispered so Hermione wouldn’t hear them.

 

“Something and nothing. I was a little harsh in response to a question about Pans actually,” Blaise answered him.

 

“Ah,” was all Draco responded, grabbing glasses out of the cupboard and pouring three shots of Firewhiskey.

 

“Just,  _ ah _ ?” Blaise asked him. “Should we tell her we’re close to Pans or what?” He asked frustrated. He didn’t want to upset Hermione, but he didn’t want her thinking that Pansy was a bitch either. Draco and Blaise treated Pansy like a sister; they always had. And after what had happened to her parents during the war they were both more protective than ever.

 

Draco grabbed the glasses up and moved back towards the sofa where Hermione was still sitting looking deep in thought. Turning back to Blaise he whispered, “Just leave it for now,  love.”

 

Blaise shrugged his shoulders and followed behind Draco back to Hermione. 

 

“Here you go, Granger.” Draco said handing her a glass across the back of the sofa. She turned to take the glass and caught his eyes. He was smiling at her. 

 

_ ‘A genuine smile,’ _ she thought. He looked good with a natural smile on his face. She grabbed the glass and muttered thanks before taking a small sip. Firewhiskey wasn’t her thing, but she was surprised that it tasted good. This wasn’t the Firewhiskey she was used to drinking with Harry and Ron.

 

Draco and Blaise moved around the couch to sit down. Draco took one of the armchairs and Blaise sat on the floor by his feet. They both looked over at Hermione who was quietly sipping her drink.

 

“You like, Granger?” Draco asked her sipping his drink.

 

“I do actually,” she replied, “It’s different from what I normally drink.”

 

“Well of course,” he replied smirking at her, “It’s a hundred-year-old whisky.”

 

She rolled her eyes at his bragging.  _ Only the best for Malfoy,  _ she thought snidely.

 

“Of course it is, Malfoy,” she smiled at him while still drinking. She was enjoying the taste of this even though she was a lightweight when it came to alcohol so she’d better watch her intake. She definitely didn’t want to get drunk around these two.

 

“So what shall we talk about?” Blaise asked looking at her enjoying her drink. 

 

“Let's start with where Malfoy got a bottle of hundred-year-old whisky from?” She grinned over the rim of her glass at Blaise who in turn winked at her. She blushed and looked from him to Draco. He was staring at her. Probably wanted her undivided attention before answering— _ smug git! _

 

“Did you forget I live in a huge Manor and have endless Galleons, Granger? Only the best for me.” He grinned at her while she sighed at his arrogance.

 

“Don't gloat Draco,” Blaise admonished him. 

 

“How could I ever forget that?” she asked, “we had to listen to you for six years while you told us all, how rich you were and how much better than us you were.”

 

“Well, there you go, then,” he replied raising his glass in salute at her.

 

“You’re an idiot, Malfoy,” she concluded. She knew he was teasing her; in a playful way—or trying to. It all felt a little strange to her; being here with him and Blaise—no Harry or Ron to protect against the Slytherins. Still, as much as felt a little nervous she could feel the whisky warming her through and making her relax a little.

 

“How about,” Blaise said, “we start this evening by using each other's real names.”

 

“What?” Hermione asked shocked. That was something she couldn’t ever imagine—Malfoy calling her by her given name.

 

“What’s the problem with that,  _ Hermione _ ?” Draco drawled her name and smirked at her waiting for a reaction.

 

Hermione’s eyebrows raised in shock and she looked incredulously over at Malfoy. Had she just heard that? He’d actually called her Hermione. It sounded so weird coming from him. Especially when he winked at her after. She felt her cheeks flame and looked away from that intense silver stare of his.

 

If he wanted to play this game with her, then bring it on. Turning back to face him, she squared her shoulders, took a sip at the whisky and replied, “I don’t have a problem with that,  _ Draco _ .”

 

“Touche, Granger,” he laughed, raising his glass to her in another mock salute, and thinking how good his name sounded coming from that lovely mouth of hers. 

 

She rolled her eyes at him.

 

“Well, that was easier than I thought,” Blaise moaned, “I thought I’d have to work a lot harder than that to get you two speaking each other's first names.”

 

They both grinned at Blaise, and he gave a small laugh. 

 

“Right. Yeah. I forgot who I was dealing with. Two pig-headed, stubborn, dolts.”

 

“Hey,” Hermione spluttered in mock outrage, picking up the cushion from the couch and throwing it in Blaise’s direction. He caught it just before it hit him in the face.

 

“Violent much?” Draco asked moving his glass from near his lap as Blaise jostled his legs catching the cushion.

 

“You should know Malfoy. It was you I punched back in third year,” she smiled wickedly at him.

 

“Again Granger, Touche! Aren’t you the queen of comebacks?” he mocked her playfully. 

 

While they bantered back and forth, Blaise stood to fetch the bottle of Firewhiskey from the kitchenette. He liked hearing them playfully argue with each other over the stupid shit they’d done to one another over the years. He leant against the side, bottle in hand and just listened to them for a few minutes.

 

“Hey, that’s not fair. I wasn’t expecting a girl to throw a punch at me, so I wasn’t prepared,” Blaise heard him whine. He smiled, picturing Malfoy's face. He’d probably stuck his bottom lip out and pouted like a child who was being told off. Grangers accompanying laugh told him that’s exactly what Draco did.

 

“Oh, Malfoy. You look like a scolded toddler. Just admit you were wrong over Buckbeak and we’ll call it quits,” she said between fits of giggles.

 

“Never, Granger. That chicken tried to kill me.”

 

“Did not.”

 

“Did too.”

 

“It was a scratch Malfoy, and you played on it for weeks.”

 

“It hurt.”

 

“You’re a wimp.”

 

“Whatever,” he mumbled. “At least I didn't curse a girl’s face or keep a reporter in a jar for the better part of a year.” 

 

“WHAT?” 

 

_ Oh shit! _ Blaise thought. He’s gone and done it now. 

 

“How the hell do you know about that Malfoy?” Blaise heard her cry indignantly.

 

“I have my ways of knowing and finding things out. And that one was kind of brilliant—kudos for that idea. I wondered at the time where that batty old bint had disappeared to.”

 

“Again, Malfoy, your fault. If you—”

 

“Hey now, hold on a min—”

 

“Oh no, you don’t, Malfoy. There will be no excuses this time. You were feeding that awful woman complete lies about my friends and I all year. I wouldn't have had to put her in a jar if she hadn’t been hounding us… because of YOU,” she shouted at him. 

 

Blaise walked back in before things got out of hand. These two were fiery with each other, or as he liked to see it; passionate. She just didn't know it yet. He walked over to stand in front of Hermione, unscrewed the bottle and poured some of the dark amber liquid into her glass. His eyes didn’t leave hers the whole time as she stared up at him. He heard Draco h’umph and flop back against the seat.

 

Hermione knew she shouldn’t be accepting another glass of whisky, the first one was already having an effect on her, and she wanted to be on her guard, but her resolve was slipping as she sipped at the fabulous drink. 

 

Blaise smirked at her knowing full well the way to get her to relax around them was to loosen her up with alcohol. He also knew she couldn't handle her intake when it came to drinking. He turned to refill Draco’s glass to see his blond-haired lover sulking. 

 

“Stop acting like a petulant child Draco and pass your glass,” Blaise demanded rolling his eyes at his prat of a boyfriend. He'd better get used to not always being right if they wanted to bring Hermione into their lives, Blaise thought. She wouldn't let Draco get away with the stuff that Blaise seemed to. 

 

Draco stuck his hand out with the glass in it without answering. Blaise sighed and filled it halfway with whisky for him. This time, instead of sitting on the floor he sat down on the sofa beside Hermione. 

 

“To fresh starts,” Blaise proposed easing his glass towards Hermione. She turned and clinked her glass against his before they both turned toward Draco and done the same thing. All three glasses clinked together before they all took a swig, smiling at each other. 

 

Hermione had enjoyed the evening so far. If this was the Malfoy he was now, she could maybe see them forming a tentative friendship. His playful banter was quite endearing when he wasn't sneering or smirking at her and calling her horrible names or just being the pain in the arse she'd come to know. It was hard to reconcile the boy she knew from a year ago to the one in front of her now. 

 

This one who said sorry and didn't call her vile things out of spite or malice. He was now the one who playfully bantered with her over stupid stuff they’d gotten up to in the past. 

 

She sat quietly sipping her whisky. She still felt a little intimidated being around them both without her friends there, but so far they'd been on their best behaviour, and she seemed to be holding her own against them both. 

 

She could tell Draco and Blaise had a good relationship. They seemed so easy and relaxed around one another. She supposed that came from a lifetime of knowing each other, although she couldn't help but feel like Draco had been holding something back while telling her about them. 

 

_ Oh well, save it for another time, _ she thought drinking some more of the whisky. She really was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol. Still thinking about the boys’ relationship and hoping that she might find something similar one day, she never noticed Draco move from the armchair over to the couch next to her until the seat dipped alerting her to his presence. 

 

He just smirked at her before settling his head against the back of the sofa. 

 

“So, Granger?” He asked, “you have any idea what you want to do when you leave this place?” He wanted an idea of what she might have planned for her future, so he and Blaise could be a part of it—and he was sure she'd have a plan—she was Hermione Granger after all. 

 

“Oh. Well, I'm not quite sure actually,” she answered, surprised at the question. Since the end of the war, she hadn't really given much thought to her future beyond coming back to Hogwarts and finishing out her last year. She leant back against the sofa at the same time Blaise on her right did as well. 

 

All three stared up at the ceiling, slightly inebriated and pondering their futures. 

 

“I think I'd like to go travelling.” Blaise announced, “I'm not being big-headed or anything,” Draco snorted at this. Ignoring him Blaise continued “but I… I mean we… Draco and I have enough money that we don't have to work if we don't wish to. And after everything that's happened the last couple of years, I think I'd like to take a time out and go and see some of the world—muggle and wizard alike.” He tacked on at the end. Not to make Hermione feel better but because he was interested in seeing how muggles and wizards interacted in far off lands around the world. 

 

“That sounds nice,” Hermione answered wistfully, “I've always wanted to see the world. There's so much to explore out there.”

 

Draco and Blaise turned their heads towards each other over Hermione's and stared at the top of her head and then at each other, both with looks of wonder and amazement written across their features. 

 

Blaise and Draco had spoken about this a few times in the not so distant past. They'd both like to get out of Britain for a while. Sure they were ok up here, hidden away behind the safety of Hogwarts walls where the public and press couldn't get at them, but what happens when they both leave and have to join the real world. Draco was afraid he wouldn't be accepted back into society after his part in the war. Blaise would be tainted by association and Draco didn't want that for him. 

 

They had both decided to wait and see what would happen with Hermione this year before making any concrete decisions. Apart from each other, she was their number one priority. But to hear her sigh and say she'd like to travel as well was music to Draco and Blaise’s ears. 

 

“You could always come with us,” Draco suggested quite nonchalantly not wanting to scare her with the underlying enthusiasm he had for this idea. 

 

“Yeah, right,” she replied. 

 

“And why not?” Blaise asked. 

 

“Well..” she started, not sure what to say next. It did sound appealing. To get away for a while after school finishes. She wasn't relishing the thought of having to find a job and somewhere to live. She had fought for too long to live a boring, mundane, nine-to-five, Monday-to-Friday kind of life. She wanted more for herself, and it would certainly put the cat among the pigeons to announce she was off to see the world with the two Slytherin princes. 

 

She smirked just imagining the looks on Harry and Ron's faces. But no, what was she thinking? There was no way she would go off to Merlin-knew-where with a boy, who up until a couple of days ago, had been her worst enemy. She knew there would come a time—if they wanted to hold this friendship—that they would have to sit down together and discuss everything they were both currently holding back, but for now, she was happy to get to know this new version of Malfoy. 

 

“Well, what Granger?” Draco asked, waiting anxiously for her answer. 

 

“I have already been offered a few places within the ministry, and one of them does sound good, but I don't know…” she broke off at the end sighing. 

 

“You don't know if you want to work some boring job and go home to your cat until you find a half decent bloke to cuddle up to instead?” Blaise asked turning to look at her. 

 

“I wouldn't quite put it like that, but yeah, I think I want better for myself. Does that make me sound selfish, because—”

 

“NO,” they both answered at the same time with raised voices. 

 

She looked from one to the other, Draco was slightly shaking his head at her and Blaise’s brown eyes were wide and stared at her. 

 

“Don't ever think you're selfish  _ cara _ .” Blaise spoke softly to her, “you are the most selfless person I know. You would do anything for practically anyone, without thinking of your own happiness first. After what you've been through the last few years no one would blame you for wanting to take a break.”

 

She smiled at him, “Thank you, Blaise. That was sweet of you to say. I'm still unsure of my plans, but I have nine months to figure it all out.” She replied, moving to stand up from the sofa and placing her drink on the table in front of them. 

 

“Where you going?” Draco asked her sitting up straight to look at her. 

 

“Only to the toilet,” she giggled like a silly school girl. Now she'd stood she could definitely feel the effects of the alcohol as the room started to move around her. She stumbled over Draco's legs and made her way to the bathroom. 

 

“Bloody hell, Blaise,” Draco uttered frustrated. He put his glass down so he could run his hands through his hair and across his face, “Just imagining the things we could get up to together with her in foreign countries is making me hard. I'm trying very hard not to pounce on her right now.”

 

“Calm down, Draco,” Blaise said drinking a large gulp of whisky, “think about it. She said herself; she has nine months to make a decision. We just have to make sure our option is the one she picks,” he smirked at his boyfriend wickedly. 

 

Just as Draco was going to retort, Hermione came back into the room looking slightly wobbly. 

 

“Are you ok  _ cara _ ?” Blaise asked her as she made her way back to the sofa. She fell against the seat in a most unlady like fashion, knocking into Draco. She muttered sorry and reached for her drink. 

 

“Just peachy,” she answered Blaise smirking at him, she sipped her drink and placed the glass back down. “Why do you call me cara, Blaise? And what does it mean?” Hermione asked the wizard to her right who was trying to repress a grin at her drunkenness. 

 

“It's a word of endearment. In Italian, it means Dear One or Beloved.” Blaise answered her truthfully. 

 

Hermione seemed to ponder this before asking, “And why do you call me that?”

 

Blaise gulped, “Well… I suppose you are a dear one… or, I hope you will be,” he said taking her hand and kissing the back of her knuckles.  

 

Hermione froze at the action and looked up at him. He had her knuckles pressed to his lips, and his eyes had darkened considerably. She felt the atmosphere change, and little sparks of electricity zapped through her body. His lips were soft and warm against her hand. 

 

“You… you… hope I will be? What do you mean by that,” she whispered. She didn't want to break the moment they seemed to be having. Forgetting about Draco behind her until a pair of hands rested on her shoulders, and she felt him shuffle closer to her. 

 

She gasped as she felt his breath tickle the back of her neck, he whispered into her ear, “Exactly what he said, Hermione. We both hope you will become a beloved one to us. Come with us at the end of school Hermione. We guarantee you'll have the time of your life and you’ll be well looked after.”

 

Her brain was swimming with having them so close to her, and the alcohol was heightening her senses. She couldn't think straight with Draco’s warm breath fanning across her throat and Blaise, peppering kisses across the back of her hand and along the inside of her wrist, rolling her jumper up as he continued to kiss up to the crook of her elbow. 

 

All she could think at that moment was she was glad it was her left arm he was kissing. They didn't know about her scar, and she didn't want them to see it. 

 

She had to get out of here. How had the atmosphere changed so quickly? It had gone from lightheartedness and playful banter to them both touching her and almost begging that she come with them both in June.  _ No!  _ She needed to stand and move to her room. 

 

_ Just stand up Hermione! _ She shouted at herself internally. The two bodies moved a little closer, she felt the warmth of both of them as Draco started running his hands softly up and down her throat, then down the back of her spine until he placed his hands on her waist and pulled her back into his front while nuzzling her neck with his nose and taking in a breath of her vanilla and honey scent. She felt him shiver. 

 

“Wha… what… are you both doing?” she stammered trying to catch her breath. 

 

“Just relax,” Draco purred into her ear. 

 

_ OH FUCK, NO! _ She screamed to herself. She was enjoying the things they were doing. She could feel the blush on her face that had crept down her chest. Her breathing was becoming erratic as she was enveloped in the masculine scents of both wizards. 

 

She grabbed hold of the rational part of her brain and quickly pulled herself out of their embraces and stumbled back. Looking wide-eyed and panicked, she took a backwards step almost falling over the coffee table. 

 

“I… I… err… really should go to bed,” Hermione stammered at the pair of them who had observed her flustered and uncoordinated clumsiness. 

 

“Yes. That's what I've got to do,” she told herself more than them, “bed, must go to bed,” she muttered as she made her way around the couch and towards her bedroom door. 

 

Draco reached out an arm and just caught her hand as she moved. She stopped and stared down at them both.

 

“Sweet dreams, Granger,” Draco winked at her as he released her arm. Blaise also threw a wink in her direction before she wobbled over to her door and almost fell through it in her haste to get away from the Slytherins—before she did something she would certainly regret in the morning. 

 

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

 

He and Blaise decided to stay up for a while after Hermione had escaped them. They both needed to calm down, and the only way to do that was drink more whisky, while they talked about what had happened. 

 

“Fuck, Blaise. She smells so good,” Draco declared loudly falling back into the seat after finishing his fifth glass of booze. 

 

“Yeah she does,” he agreed, nodding his head enthusiastically, “I can't believe she didn't push us both away immediately. Why'd you think that was eh?” He drunkenly asked his blond haired lover. 

 

“She’s had a lot Firewhiskey. You know we probably won't see her tomorrow now. She'll be embarrassed and will avoid us the whole day,” he declared swinging the near empty bottle of Firewhiskey about in front him making the contents slosh about noisily. 

 

“Probably a good thing she stopped us when she did, or we'd be a tangle of drunken limbs on the rug down there right now,” Blaise laughed pointing at a spot on the rug in front of the fire. 

 

Draco groaned at the image in his head and turned to his boyfriend. 

 

“Prick tease,” he smirked. 

 

“Who said I was teasing?” Blaise answered back. 

 

Draco stood and took his hand, “Bedroom,” he declared before pulling Blaise from the sofa and towards their room. 

  


~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

 

Some hours later Draco awoke with a start and leant up on his elbows. Something had woken him. A sound of some sort. Listening into the darkness, he jumped when a flash of white light lit up the bedroom followed by a loud rumble rolling across the sky. 

 

Just thunder, he thought placing one hand over his beating heart. He was just about to lay back down when he heard a faint scream, coming from the room across from them. Slipping out of bed quietly so as not to wake Blaise, Draco moved towards the bathroom door and walked through to Hermione's door on the other side. He wasn't sure if he'd heard the noise or if his mind was playing tricks on him after being woken up by the storm. Deciding not to check he turned to make his way back when the scream echoed again. 

 

This time he turned and opened Hermione's door quickly knowing it was definitely her making that noise. She was clearly having a nightmare as she threw her head from side to side mumbling “No, no, no. Please stop.”

 

Draco couldn't bare to see her like this, not knowing what she was seeing behind her eyes right now. He had to stop it, so he made his way over to the bed, lifted the covers and climbed in beside her. 

 

He reached for her and encased her back against his front; he wrapped his arm around her waist capturing her arm in the process as well to stop her thrashing. He bent his head forward and put his lips almost to her ear—her bushy hair tickling his nose. 

 

“Calm down Granger. I'm here. Nothing bad is going to happen,” he whispered into her ear hoping to calm the witch down. He could feel her shaking in his arms and still mumbling “No.”

 

“Sshhh Granger,” he cooed into her ear while gently rocking the shaking witch backwards and forwards. 

 

“I'm here Hermione. I'm here now. I won't let anything bad happen to you. Not now or ever. I'll keep you safe.” 

 

He felt her shiver as he blew his warm breath across her ear and down her neck. She sighed and seemed to relax in his arms. 

 

He gave it a few minutes before gently moving them both, so he had her cradled in the nook of his shoulder. He placed her arm around his waist and turned his head to nestle his nose against her curls and inhale her vanilla and honey scent. She didn't stir as he lightly kissed her forehead. 

 

“Sleep now Hermione,” he whispered, intent on giving it a few minutes before moving back to his and Blaise’s room. Before he knew it though, his eyes had to started to close, surrounded by the scent of his witch who was now laying peacefully in his arms.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	7. The Morning After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone. I'm finally back with a new chapter. So sorry for the long wait. I have no excuses! I do have chapter eight almost ready to go to beta though. This will be up in the next couple of weeks. I now have to concentrate on Strictly Dramione's Movie Fest, which I haven't written one word for yet! (The panic is setting in) This is why I don't enter Comps or Fests very much. Deadlines give me anxiety.
> 
> Anyway, as always, massive love and thanks to my alpha/beta ladies...  
> Gryff_inTheGame and SaintDionysus. I love you both so much.
> 
> Let's see what happens when Hermione finally wakes from her drunken night with a snake in her bed! I don't beg for reviews but if you'd like to leave one it would be much appreciated. Let me know what you think so far.
> 
> Happy Reading  
> ~coyg_81 x

This Life

~•~•~•~•~

Chapter Seven

 

The Morning After

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


Hermione could feel herself coming round from one of the best night's sleep she'd had in years; she felt calm and relaxed. As her mind came back to consciousness, she became aware of a warm body in the bed with her.  

 

Her arm was draped across a hard chest that was slowly rising and falling and a soft snoring noise was coming from above her head. As she tried to stay calm and not panic, she slowly moved her head back to get a look at whoever it was. 

 

Thinking logically she knew it could've only been Draco or Blaise. They were the only three with the password to their room. What she was actually thinking was… why is one of them in bed with her, and hoping to Merlin himself that it was Blaise she was cuddled into. It would be too awkward for it to be Malfoy.  As she opened her eyes, she was met with a mop of blond hair, and she immediately shot up out of bed.

 

“WHAT THE FUCK, MALFOY?” She screamed moving over to her wardrobe to grab her dressing gown. “WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK ARE YOU DOING IN MY BED?” She was furious. After getting drunk with them both last night and then what she thought was them giving her a blatant come on; she had shot off to bed drunk, confused, aroused and confused about being aroused. 

 

Her plan before she'd fallen asleep last night was to sneak out early this morning and ignore the pair of them for as long as possible while she thought about what had happened. 

 

She did not expect to wake up curled around Slytherins biggest snake and up until a few days ago; the boy she had detested. She was also trying to understand why—when she had awoken—she'd felt rested and calm. Surely that had nothing to do with him…  _ Damn it all _ . What the hell was going on with her?

 

“Sssh, Granger. Not so loud, my head is thumping, and your shrieking isn't helping,” came the muffled response of Draco Malfoy. 

 

“MALFOY,” she continued to shriek at him. She now stood at the end of the bed glaring down at him with her arms crossed around her middle. “You have exactly thirty seconds to tell me what in Godric's name you're doing in my bed and then get out of my goddamn room before I hex your ‘little Malfoys’ right off,” she declared. 

 

Draco sniggered at her nickname for his balls and opened his eyes to the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen; other than the times he woke to Blaise’s mouth sucking his cock first thing in the morning. She looked furious and radiant all at the same time. Her hair was a tangled mess of wild curls going in every direction; her face flushed and chest heaving with her deep breaths. Having her arms crossed just accentuated her fabulous looking breasts—he smirked at her.

 

“DO NOT SMIRK AT ME, SNAKE,” Hermione shouted at him. He visibly flinched at her tone. She really was losing her cool with every passing second. 

 

“Ok, ok, calm down,” he tried. When she flared her nostrils at him, he sat up and raised his hands out in front of him in surrender. He was getting worried for the safety of his  _ ‘little Malfoys’ _ —as she'd called them. 

 

“Hermione,” he called her name softly, not wanting her to get anymore irate than she already seemed, “Just sit down for a second and I'll explain what I'm doing here. It's nothing sinister; I promise,” Draco declared catching her eye and trying to calm the enraged witch. 

 

Hermione huffed, still annoyed but sat down on the edge of the bed anyway. Draco ran his hands through his hair and looked at her. 

 

“The storm woke me up last night,” he explained, “I also heard you scream.” He waited for a reaction. 

 

She took a small, sharp intake of breath. She'd been having a nightmare. 

 

He continued, “I opened your door; just to check on you, but you screamed again, and you were kind of thrashing about.”

 

“Oh god,” Hermione cried, tears threatening at the corner of her eyes. The only other person who had seen her in the throes of a nightmare was Harry. After Ron had left them in the forest and just after she and Harry had returned from Godric's Hollow did the nightmares start. Thankfully she'd only had a few, and they'd seemed to stop when Ron had returned to them, so he'd never seen.   

 

Back then they used to be about her family being found and killed, or her friends. That was when she first started to realise that the war and everything that had gone on was starting to take a toll on her mental well-being. But she had to stay strong for Harry and Ron. They needed her, and she hadn’t let them down. 

 

After the final battle and once she had gone back to her childhood home, she took time for herself and try to come to terms with everything that had happened since she first stepped foot into the wizarding world. She was definitely having a hard time coming to terms with it. Her brain was so used to over thinking. After the war, she found she couldn't get a moment's peace with all the tumultuous thoughts rolling through her mind and at all times of the day as well. And so, it had seeped into her nightmares, which had returned with full force. 

 

She didn't want anybody to know. In Hermione's eyes it made her weak; she had been strong for such a long time, just trying to survive. she didn't know any other way now, the mask she wore so firmly in place. So for Malfoy, of all people, to see her that vulnerable and terrified was a bitter pill to swallow; even if he did offer her comfort—she felt a million times better for it. 

 

“I've seen enough of Blaise's nightmares in the past, Hermione. I knew the only way to calm you down was to hold you and offer comfort,” Draco interrupted her thoughts, “I could've hurt you if I'd try to force you awake, so I just held you until it had passed,” he continued. 

 

“Doesn't explain what you're still doing in my bed,” she grumbled. She'd calmed down a little at having him confirm nothing untoward was on going on but still—Malfoy in bed with her wasn't what she was expecting to happen. 

 

“I had every intention of going back to my bed but—” he cut off sheepishly. 

 

“But, what?” Hermione inquired, her eyes narrowing dangerously. 

 

“Ugh… Don't look at me like that Granger. I was drunk, ok? And tired, and you were so warm and smelt so good that I just dozed off. I'm sorry alright. I didn't mean to fall asleep,” he huffed throwing himself back down on the pillows. 

 

She stared at him slack jawed, not expecting that response. 

 

“Well…erm…Ok, Malfoy,” she stammered, unsure of herself now. “I guess…thank you is the right thing to say here…so thanks, Draco.”

 

He looked up at her when she called him by his given name. She looked contrite and embarrassed, and he breathed a sigh of relief for his  _ ‘little Malfoys’  _

 

“You're welcome, Hermione. Now really, do you have any pepper up lying around, because you know…my head,” he said pointing a finger towards his temple. 

 

“No I don't,” she confirmed with a small smile, “Now would you kindly get your arse out of my bed and back to your own,” Hermione asked the whiny blond haired prat still laying there. She moved from the bed to grab a towel for a shower and pulled the duvet cover from Malfoy's body. 

 

“Graaaaanger,” he whined, “It's cold.”

 

“Well get up and get back in your own bed Malfoy. I'm sure Blaise will warm you up,” she sniggered at him. 

 

He huffed and muttered under his breath about insufferable book worms waking him up before he stood and stretched his arms over his head. Hermione's mouth went dry at the sight of his taut abdomen. He did keep himself in killer shape she thought to herself. She averted her eyes and waited for him to move towards the bathroom, following behind him. She snatched up her wand from the side table on her way. 

 

When Draco had made it to the door of his and Blaise's room, he turned to look at Hermione. “You ok, Granger?” he asked concerned and lifted her head to look at him with a finger under her chin. 

 

Her big brown eyes looked into his cool grey stare. 

 

“Yeah, I'll be ok. And thanks again, Malfoy. It would have been horrible to wake up from that with a raging hangover,” she smiled softly at him. 

 

“You’re welcome,” he said turning and going back into his own room. 

 

She sighed as he closed the door and she placed a locking charm on it. She didn't want either of them walking in while she was showering. 

 

The hot water washed over her body and helped clear her mind, she thought about what a crazy twelve hours it had been. 

 

She had gotten drunk with two Slytherins, let them get a little too close in her inebriated state and then woke up next to Malfoy. She lathered her honey shampoo into her hair as she sighed. He had changed—a lot. What he'd done last night she never would've expected; him offering comfort when she was at her most vulnerable, and not even goading her for it the next morning. 

 

She finished her shower and dressed quickly wanting to make a clean getaway from her dorm and made her way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. 

 

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

 

Hermione spent her Saturday morning after breakfast in the library, under the pretence of doing homework while Harry and Ron went off to Quidditch practice. What she actually did was find her favourite secret alcove at the back of the library where she knew she wouldn't be disturbed so she could think about everything that had happened with Draco this week. She was feeling more out of control than ever, and it wasn’t a feeling she liked. Hermione liked to have her thoughts in order and to know exactly what she was doing. She hadn’t felt like that in a long time. 

 

She took a seat, removed her text books from her bag to set up on the desk—in case anyone came by it would look like she doing homework. She leaned back in the soft, comfy chair she had claimed as hers years ago. Hermione was delighted that this corner of the library hadn’t been damaged in the battle. She liked to come here to think and study and no one ever really ventured this far back, so she was never interrupted.

 

She sighed as she thought about everything. Hermione couldn’t believe they’d only been back at school for such a short amount of time. It felt like months to her. First off she thought about Draco and his  _ ‘apology.’ _ She knew he’d definitely meant it. And he’d been nothing but nice since then as well. 

 

Last night had been weird to her. Just what were they both playing at touching her like that—and why had she let it happen? Blaise had peppered her wrist and arm with kisses and with Draco behind her, running his fingers down her neck and back. Then he’d pulled her against him, and she’d  felt how aroused he had been. Her feelings at that time are what caused her to run off to her bedroom. Hermione had felt aroused and there had been a dampening in her underwear. She hadn’t understood her reaction, and it had scared her—hence the reason for retreating. She'd felt the need to get away from both the boys and her own riotous feelings. 

 

And then this morning she had been wrapped around Malfoy. Even though he'd given her a viable excuse for his being there, it still didn't sit well with her. The fact that she felt well rested, didn’t escape her notice either. But what to do about it now? She had no idea. Had they just been drunk last night and trying to get a rise out of her or embarrass her? Though...they had been quite adamant that she go travelling with them at the end of the year. They seemed sincere to her, and she had always been a good judge of character. She’d known that Draco had been a prat on first sight, and he’d proved that time and time again over the years, but now…now that had all been turned around. She thought about what he had probably had to go through in the last two years, and it upset her to think of it. Malfoy wanted to be friends with her now. That was something she was willing to try, they still had a lot to discuss between them. If they wanted any chance of a real friendship, then the air definitely needed to be cleared. That could wait for a while though. 

 

Another thought that popped into her head was Blaise. She didn’t understand his angle either. As far as she knew, he and Draco were in a loving and committed relationship together. He’d never spoken to Hermione in all of their time at school except once at the Yule Ball in their fourth year. She hadn’t paid it any mind at the time, but now, after last night she was feeling differently about it. Groaning and leaning forward she banged her head against the table in frustration. She couldn’t think about this anymore. The boys would finish with their practice soon, so she packed her bag back up and started to head towards the Great Hall to meet her two best friends for lunch.

 

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

 

Once Draco and Blaise had heard her leave through the portrait that morning, Blaise had bombarded Draco with questions about how he’d ended up in Hermione’s bed for the night.

 

“Don’t pout, Blaise,” Draco had snapped at his sulking lover, who was propped up against the headboard and had his arms folded in front of him. 

 

“I just don’t understand how you ended up in bed with her,” he declared throwing his arms in the air in obvious indignation.

 

Sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose, he raised his eyes to meet Blaise’s dark glare. 

 

“How many more times, Blaise?” he asked him. “The storm woke me up, and I heard Hermione scream. I couldn't just leave her. What would you of done?” Draco asked him taking a deep breath and trying to keep his rising anger under control—something he’d learned to do quite well over the last year. 

 

“I know…I know, Draco. And I also know that it’s you with the bigger mountain to climb when it comes to that little witch but I just think that after last night—with the drinking—and then touching her...did she not lose her temper with you this morning?”

 

“Of course she did,” Draco sighed loudly. “She was absolutely furious when she realised I was in bed with her. She calmed down somewhat when I explained what I was doing there.”

 

Blaise rubbed his hands down his face before continuing. “I think we need to back off a little, Draco.” He watched Draco raise an eyebrow at him.

 

“Let me finish,” Blaise continued holding his hands up in front of him. “You know our girl is having a hard time with things and I just think that we need to be there to support and encourage her. We can’t be over her all of the time—confusing her.”

 

Draco smirked at this. 

 

“Don't be a pervert right now Draco; I'm serious. We need to back off and just become friends with her.” Blaise responded harshly. He needed to get this point through to Malfoy incase they ended up scaring Hermione off. 

 

Sighing and running his hands through his hair Draco acquiesced to his boyfriend. He’d had so much fun last night with her and Blaise and to be able to finally get his hands on her body had been amazing. And then this morning—even though she’d been angry to start with—waking up in her bed surrounded by her scent had felt extraordinary. He knew Blaise was right though; they needed to back off—just a little.

 

“Ok, Blaise. You’re right. We’ll speak to her later when she comes back and apologise to her, yes?”

 

“Yes, Draco, definitely. We need to be smart about this,” he breathed a sigh of relief.

 

“I agree, now can we stop talking about it and find some other form of entertainment?” he asked and winked lavisciously at his boyfriend. “I’m feeling quite turned on, and Merlin’s beard I can still smell her on me.”

 

“Come here then lover. Let's see what we can do about that.”

 

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

 

As Hermione walked out of the library, trying to sort her books out in her overloaded bag, she heard a female voice calling her name. 

 

Looking over her shoulder, she was shocked to see Pansy Parkinson standing against a column watching Hermione fiddle with her satchel. Her two new Slytherin housemates might be close to the Parkinson heiress, but she certainly wasn’t and didn’t trust her one bit. Hermione took a deep breath as Pansy made her way over to stand in front of Hermione. 

 

Looking the Gryffindor in the eye, she asked, "Could I speak with you please, Granger?"

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	8. Pansy Said What?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter for you all. A quicker update than the last few, but I'm taking advantage while the muse wants to play with this. 
> 
> More Dramionaise interaction in the next chapter (Promise) 
> 
> Catch me over on tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/coyg-81
> 
> As always massive beta love to SaintDionysus
> 
> Let me know what you think.
> 
> ~coyg_81

This Life

~•~•~•~•~

Chapter Eight

 

Pansy Said What?

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
  
  


Hermione spent the next few days trying her best to ignore the two Slytherins she was currently sharing living space with. A hard feat as they seemed to be wherever she went, be it in their common room, in lessons, the Great Hall—everywhere she looked, she caught one of their worried glances at least ten times a day. It was unnerving how much they seemed to watch her. She couldn’t look either of them in the face after her chat with Pansy last Saturday afternoon. It was now nearing the end of the week, and apart from the odd  _ ‘Good morning’ _ to each of them, she’d successfully stayed away from them both. She could tell Draco was slowly losing his temper with the silent treatment and knew things were going to come to a head, at some point in the very near future. 

 

Hermione noticed the not so sly glances from both wizards across the Great Hall at mealtimes, could feel their eyes burning into the back of her head during classes. She made excuses to run to her room or the Gryffindor common room rather than stay in the same space as them. She needed to think; especially after what Parkinson had told her. It was too unbelievable for Hermione to even comprehend. Harry and Ron had started to notice how off she’d been the last few days and even though Ginny was still being vile to her, they’d noted the amount of time she was spending in Gryffindor tower. 

 

Now on Thursday evening, Harry plopped down on the sofa next to her. Hermione was staring into the fireplace opposite, far away inside her own head. Harry nudged her shoulder with his; she looked over at him.

 

“Hey, Harry. What’s up?” Hermione sighed, turning back to stare at the orange flames. 

 

“Hermione, me and Ron are worried about you. What’s been going on?” he asked worriedly.

 

“Nothing Harry. Everything is fine,” she tried to answer cheerfully, not quite pulling it off.

 

“Now Hermione, what have you always said about lying?” Ron asked coming up to the back of the sofa and placing a hand on her shoulder.

 

She reached out to take his hand and smiled softly up at him.

 

“I’m not lying you big oaf,” she giggled.

 

Ron made his way around the sofa and sat down. Both boys grabbing up one of her hands each to lay in their laps.

 

“Come on ‘Mione,” Ron pressed. “You were all excited about starting school. Being Head Girl and everything. You even took it in your stride when you found out about Zabini being Head Boy—hell; you even told us you felt better about being around Malfoy after the git's apology. So what’s happened since the weekend that’s made you retreat up here nearly every night?”

 

“I...well...I...I had a chat with Pansy Parkinson on Saturday, and I don’t know what to make of it if I'm honest,” she watched out of the corner of her eye as Harry squirmed at the sound of Parkinson’s name being mentioned.  _ Strange _ , she thought, saving that for another time. 

 

As Harry began asking her to explain the nature of the conversation she’d had with Slytherin's Princess they were interrupted by the loud, shrill voice of Ginny Weasley.

 

“Oh just marvellous,” the redhead shrieked. “I thought with you being made Head Girl, I wouldn’t have to see you in our common room anymore,” Ginny said nastily, pointing a finger in Hermione’s direction and noticing her brother and boyfriend holding her hands. “But of course,” she sneered. “Got these two wrapped around your muggle fingers as usual I see. What’s the matter Hermione, had enough of your snakes already, you've come back for these two dolts?” 

 

“Now wait just a minute, Ginny,” Ron shouted, jumping up from the sofa to get in Ginny’s face. She may have been his sister, but he was entirely fed up with the way Ginny had treated Hermione over the years. In his mind, it was completely uncalled for. Hermione had never done anything wrong to her, and the rest of the Wesleys thought of Hermione as family. It was jealousy on Ginny’s part. She had been the only girl in the family so of course, attention had been paid to Ginny all of her life. When Hermione had become friends with Harry and Ron in first year and met the rest of the Weasleys, it had put Ginny’s nose out of joint.  

 

Hermione had always tried to include Ginny in everything and had always been rebuffed by the youngest Weasley. Hermione had stopped trying after fifth year when Ginny had hexed her from behind in a corridor one day; causing a huge fight between the two. Hermione had always tried to stay away from the witch since then. Things had been pretty tense between the two girls when Hermione had gone to stay at the Burrow after the final battle. Ginny had got it into her head that something had happened between Hermione and Harry when the trio had run off together to hunt down the remaining Horcruxes. Ginny knew there had been a time that Ron had not been with them and no one could convince her that nothing had happened. When Hermione and Ron had started a tentative relationship, it had been the last straw for Ginny. All she saw was this girl, who was smart, beautiful, well liked and she was taking people away from her. It was completely ridiculous, but no one could convince her otherwise. 

 

“Get away from me Ron,” Ginny shouted at her brother. “Why do you always take  _ her _ side?” she hissed glaring at Hermione. 

 

“For fuck's sake Ginny, I don’t always take Hermione’s side. You’re being totally unreasonable. This has been going on for far too long. What is your god damn problem with Hermione?” Ron shouted back at her. “In fact, don’t answer. Come with me right now,” he demanded grabbing Ginny by the arm and marching her out of the common room. 

 

Hermione and Harry looked at each other in shock. Exhaling loudly, removing his glasses and rubbing his hands down his face he asked if she fancied getting some fresh air and going for a walk with him. She nodded, and they both got up to leave Gryffindor tower.

 

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

 

They found a spot by the edge of the lake and leaned back against a tree. It was cold tonight, so Hermione cast a warming charm around them.

 

“Sorry about her,” Harry started watching his friend pick up some small stones and throwing them into the water of the lake, watching the water ripple.

 

“Oh, Harry. Ginny is the least of my problems right now.” Hermione's voice broke on the last word, and she could feel the tears threatening to fall from the corners of her eyes. She sniffed, and Harry placed his arm around her shoulder. She leaned into the comforting embrace of her best friend.

 

“Please talk to me, Hermione. We’re really worried about you.”

 

“I don’t even know where to begin.”

 

Tightening his hold on her, he asked her to start at the beginning. “Start with why you didn’t meet us for lunch on Saturday like you said you were going to.”

 

She sighed as she started to speak. “Ok. Well as I was leaving the library to meet you both for lunch, Parkinson cornered me outside asking if we could take a walk and have a chat. I was obviously wary, but I was kind of curious to hear what she wanted to say,” Hermione said looking out across the lake, going back in her mind to the conversation that had taken place.

 

“So? You went with her and talked? What was said to put you in this kind of funk?” he asked worriedly. Harry thought being back at Hogwarts would be good for her. But ever since last weekend she seemed to have reverted to how she’d been at the Burrow in the summer—quiet and withdrawn. He didn't like it. 

 

“Yes, we went for a walk, actually ended up right here and spent the rest of the afternoon talking.” Hermione sighed and lifted her head to look at her friends face. She wanted to see his reaction to her next words. “She started by apologising to me Harry.” It was worth sitting up just to see the look of bewilderment on Harry’s face.

 

“What?” he whispered.

 

“Oh you heard me right,” Hermione confirmed for him. “Do you know how many Slytherins have apologised to me in the last week?” she asked her shocked friend.

 

“Two, if I’m correct,” he answered her. Hermione shook her head at him.

 

“No? More than two? So who apart from Parkinson and Malfoy have uttered sorry at you then?”

 

“Blaise Zabini.”

 

“Zabini?”

 

“Yes, well, kind of. He sent a note to my house a couple of weeks before school started saying he was looking forward to seeing me on first September.”

 

“Hold on a sec. He contacted you in the summer?” Harry asked incredulously.

 

“He did. And at the time I didn’t understand why. I thought he could have been trying to upset me or wind me up. I mean it's not like we’ve ever spoken to each other. Then I thought that maybe he was extending an olive branch as we were both going to be Heads this year and would have to work and live together,” she explained.

 

“So, which was it?”

 

“Well, when I spoke to him on the train he said he actually meant to start again with me. I didn’t quite understand that, but he said he wanted a fresh start. I don’t think he meant anything bad from the note. It was just in my head, and obviously being best friends with Malfoy had me worried.”

 

Harry nodded his head thinking about the Head Boy. He didn't know anything about Blaise Zabini apart from the fact that he was a quiet kind of bloke and always seemed to be with Malfoy. 

 

“Harry,” Hermione said calling his attention back to her. “While we're having this conversation I feel that I should tell you something.”

 

“What?” He asked suspiciously. 

 

“The day we returned, I passed out from a panic attack, right in front of Malfoy.”

 

“WHAT?” Harry shouted jumping up from the ground and staring down at a shocked Hermione. “Sorry, Hermione. I didn’t mean to scare you, but please, explain what happened with Malfoy? Why didn’t you tell me about this? You told me the git apologised to you.” Harry started pacing in front of her, running his hands through his messy black hair as she started to explain.

 

“Please sit back down Harry. You’re making me nauseous with the pacing.”

 

He did as he was asked and sat down on the ground in front of Hermione, taking both of her hands in his and rubbed his thumbs across her knuckles in a show of support and comfort.

 

“Go on, Hermione. Tell me,” he smiled at her to let her know he’d calmed a little. 

 

“Well, Blaise told me that Malfoy wouldn’t be coming back on the train with everyone else and that he wouldn’t be there until later that night; meaning I wouldn't have to see him until the next morning. I went to unpack my trunk, and when I came out into the common room a little later Malfoy was coming through the portrait—back earlier than Blaise thought. I froze Harry. I just froze. I didn’t know what to do and as he came nearer to me—”

 

“What? He made his way over to you?”

 

“Yes, he did. He wasn’t going to do anything apart from say hello, but the nearer he got, the more I began losing it. Once he’d stepped directly in front of me, I was so panicked that I passed out.”

 

“Oh my god, Hermione. Why didn’t you tell me about this?” he cried. “What happened afterwards?” Harry asked as he held her hands tighter. He didn’t know what to do about his best friends state of mind. She said she wanted to be left alone to deal with it through the summer and he and Ron had let her go, thinking that she’d be ok by the time term started. The only reason he had come back was to keep an eye on her. Hermione thought she had convinced him and Ron to return with her, but in truth, they had both returned to look after her. 

 

_ And by the looks of it we haven’t been doing a very good job _ , he thought.

 

“When I awoke,” she continued, “I was on the sofa, and Blaise was there. Malfoy had gone. Blaise comforted me and asked what had happened. I told him I hadn't seen Draco since Malfoy Manor and it had scared me. He told me that I needed to speak to Draco about that day, but Blaise promised that I wouldn’t have to see him for the next couple of days. Two mornings later, Malfoy came down to the lake and made his big apology—which you already know.”

 

Letting out a deep breath, Harry confirmed that she had told him about Malfoy’s apology. He wasn’t the Slytherin’s biggest fan, but Harry wasn’t that blinded that he couldn’t see that Malfoy had changed; they all had after the war. 

 

Harry had a lot of time to think over the summer. He’d been so pig-headed during sixth year about Malfoy being a Death Eater, and even though that had turned out to be true, there were so many layers to peel back. Now Harry had the time to reflect; he saw Malfoy as a boy who hadn’t a choice—just like he didn't at the time either. That’s one of the main reasons he had given evidence at his trial. Hermione couldn't face it, but a long-worded letter was read out before the Wizengamot on her behalf; defending Malfoy. Harry had remembered looking at his face as Hermione's words were read allowed. It seemed like his whole being had lightened. And Harry couldn't describe the look that crossed the blond’s features when the last lines of the letter were read.

 

_ Before I make my leave, I would like to say one more thing.  _

 

_ Malfoy. I know you are listening to this being read to you and I would just like to say that, I don't blame you Malfoy. For anything. And I forgive you. I wish you all the best in the future.  _

 

_ Hermione Granger  _

 

Harry had been in shock as he saw Draco gulp and wipe at his eyes. He didn't tell Hermione. 

 

He knew that Hermione was having trouble dealing with the fact that Malfoy had stood and watched her be tortured by Bellatrix. Harry had comforted her when she cried some nights relieving it, and the nightmares she’d had to endure had been traumatic. He just wanted  _ his  _ Hermione back. The witch she had been before they’d left at the end of sixth year. 

 

Harry was sure there was more to it though and Draco's apology to her last week had proved Harry right, but he was concerned at what had put her in this mood for the last few days. 

 

“Ok, so what did the she-snake say to make you act like this?”

 

“Well, as I said we went for a walk down to here. She started by apologising for her behaviour over the last six years and said she owed you an apology for her part in the Great Hall debacle just before the final battle.”

 

Harry snorted at this. He couldn't believe the witch had apologised for that. Fuck, they had all been so young, none of them ready for what had been thrust upon them. He was looking forward to hearing that apology for himself—not that he believed he'd ever get it in person. 

 

“She told me everything that happened with her parents during the war.”

 

“Which was?” Harry asked her. There were so many rumours about what had happened he didn't know which one was true. 

 

“That's not my place to say, Harry. If she wants you to know, then she'll tell you,” Hermione answered.

 

“Yeah, you're right of course. Pisses me off no end when people assume they know everything about my life as well.” He could understand Parkinson's wariness around this subject. “So, she apologised, told you about her parents. Did you tell her about yours?”

 

Hermione nodded her head slightly. She'd been amazed at Pansy’s reaction when she'd told her about obliviating her own parents and sending them off to Australia. Pansy had told her that if she'd been in that situation, she would have done the same thing. Both witches had lost their parents in this war and could understand each other a little better because of it. Hermione had found it easy to talk to Pansy. 

 

“Ok, Hermione. I'm with you so far, but I still don't understand what she said to put you in this sullen mood you've been in. You've been lost inside your head again Hermione. Why?” He wouldn't quit until he knew what was bothering her. 

 

“Draco and Blaise had both told me that they wish to build a friendship with me and put the past firmly behind us, so I suggested that after the Prefect meeting last week, we spend the evening together in the common room, getting to know each other.” She watched Harry raise an eyebrow at this, a skeptical look on his face. Before he could say anything, she carried on. “They invited me to go travelling with them once school is finished.”

 

“What?” Harry asked her, more than a little shocked. He'd been saying ‘what’ a hell of a lot so far this evening. Everything she was said was shocking him. 

 

“Yeah, I know. Exactly what I said.” One corner of her mouth turned up in a half smile at the memory of what they'd asked. “I don’t know if I’ve spoken to you about this or not Harry but I feel like I don’t want to leave Hogwarts and just start one of the numerous Ministry jobs I’ve been offered. I want to do more with my life than just be a paper pusher. I think a year or so to do what I like after school would be really good for me. Plus, there are so many places I’d like to see,” she said wistfully, imagining in her mind’s eye seeing some of the places she had read about. The Great Pyramids of Egypt, and she'd always been fascinated with America. There were so many places to list. And of course, there were vast numbers of libraries she would like to visit. But at the very top of her list was Australia. If the Aurors hadn’t managed to track down her parents before she finished Hogwarts, then she would definitely be going there to look for them herself. She missed them both so much. Hermione wasn’t even sure if the spell could be reversed, but she was certainly going to try. 

 

“I know you don’t want that kind of life Hermione but really, going to see the world with Malfoy and Zabini?”

 

“I didn’t agree to anything Harry. I’m just saying that they offered. Anyway, that’s not what’s got my head all screwed up,” she admitted. “So, we were drinking some very nice Firewhiskey on Friday, and… Well… They… Err… Well, they—”

 

“For Godric’s sake Hermione, you’re really worrying me now. What did that pair of slippery fucking snakes do to you?” he demanded of her. If they had hurt one hair on her head, he’d kill them. He was sure Ron would help him.

 

Hermione looked up into Harry’s eyes before she went into her speech about exactly what had occurred with Draco and Blaise and the following conversation with Pansy. Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders, “Ok Harry. I’ll tell you. You’ll be mad and want to interrupt me, but please don’t, or I don’t think I’ll be able to get it all out.”

 

He nodded at her, really quite concerned over what she was going to divulge.

 

“As I was saying, we were drinking Firewhiskey and sitting on the sofa together. Blaise and Draco were trying to convince me about the travelling idea. Blaise started to kiss the back of my hand and wrist, Draco got close behind me as well. Harry, I think they were trying to come onto me, but I don’t know. We were all very drunk. I ended up running off to my room,” she sighed again, this wasn’t the worst bit she had to tell him. 

 

Harry’s face had gone a bright red colour, and Hermione saw the anger flash in his eyes, but he’d promised not to react, and so he concentrated on his breathing as she continued.

 

“On Saturday morning, I woke up next to Malfoy in my bed and—”

 

“WHAT?” Harry exploded at her. “What do you mean you woke in  _ your _ bed next to  _ Malfoy _ ?” He spat. He was fucking furious. What had that blond bastard done to her?

 

“Harry, please calm down,” Hermione begged him, grabbing tighter onto his hands so he wouldn’t get up and try to find Draco without hearing the rest of the story. She watched him take some deep breaths before looking at her and seeing the pleading look in her eyes; he nodded at her to let her know he was ok to hear the rest. Thank god she was having this conversation with Harry and not Ron; the redhead wasn’t known for being able to control his temper. Draco would've already been a deadman. 

 

“Obviously, I was furious when I found him sleeping next to me. But once I’d screamed at him to explain himself, he said that the storm had woken him, and he’d heard me scream. Harry, I must have been having a nightmare,” she whispered the last part. Harry was all too aware of the distress he’d seen her in when she was caught in a nightmare. “He just offered me comfort Harry, that’s all. He said that was the way he’d helped other people through nightmares. He held me until I had calmed down and it worked because I don’t remember anything about it. When I asked him why he had spent the whole night, he said he’d been drunk and just fell asleep. Something about me smelling good apparently.” 

 

“Okaaay, “ Harry dragged out, not convinced in the slightest. “And what was it that Pansy said?” he asked, feeling like he was getting somewhere now, although he wasn't happy about what had happened. He imagined she must have been scared to wake and find someone in bed with her—even if he could see Malfoy's intentions were good. 

 

“Pansy and I chatted for hours Harry—all afternoon. She’s very close to Draco and Blaise. She told me that they like me and that I needed to stop ignoring them and sit and have a conversation with them.” Hermione finished taking a deep gulp of cold air. She looked at her friend waiting for him to process what she’d said. 

 

Finally, Harry said, “Hold on a sec Hermione. Who likes you? Draco?” He was confused. Both of the Slytherins had got close to her. Drunk or not, he was also a red-blooded male, so he knew what they were up to. He just couldn’t imagine either of the Pureblood wizards would want his Muggle-born friend like that. Especially after years of animosity between Hermione and Draco. He didn’t have an opinion about Zabini. He’d never spoken to the wizard. 

 

“No, not just Draco,” she answered. “Pansy told me  _ both _ of them like me, and they had done for quite a while. I suppose this is the point where I also tell you—and please tell no one else this. Draco and Blaise are in a relationship with each other, Harry. They’ve grown up with one another, and that developed further through fifth and sixth year.”

 

_ Well fuck! _ Harry Thought to himself. The look of shock on his face must've been a sight as Hermione asked, “Harry, are you ok? You’ve gone very white.”

 

He gulped before asking, “So...both...both of them like you? And what? They want you to be the filling in a snake sandwich?” He deadpanned. This was unbelievable. No wonder Hermione had been on a different planet the last few days. With her struggling anyway, this was an added complication she didn’t need. He decided right there that he’d have to have a quiet word with Slytherin’s sly princes and try to find out what they were both up to.

 

“That’s disgusting Harry,” she chided him. 

 

“Well, how did you expect me to react? You just told me that you got drunk with Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini. Not only that, you allowed them to touch you like that—”

 

“Now hold on a sec Harry—”

 

“Please Hermione. You expect me to believe that you wouldn’t have shoved them both away from you the instant they got too close to make you feel uncomfortable. You enjoyed it didn’t you?” He smirked at her.

 

“Oh my god. Harry, No. No, I...I didn’t enjoy it,” she stammered and felt her cheeks heat up under Harry’s playful, mocking stare. 

 

“Ha!” he exclaimed. “You stuttered. Jesus, fuck, Hermione. Do you like them? It was only a few days ago you passed out in front of Draco, scared out of your mind, and now just over a week later… this.”

 

“I don’t know what to think Harry if I’m being honest. They have both been so damn charming and easy to be around. I don’t know… Maybe it has something to do with Malfoy apologising. It seems to have changed things between the two of us,” she blew a deep breath out and stood up.

 

“Where are you going?” Harry asked, looking up at her.

 

“I’m fed up with sitting. Let’s stretch our legs,” she said reaching for his outstretched hand to help him up. Hermione linked her arm through his, and they began to take a slow walk around part of the lake.

 

“In all seriousness though Hermione. What are you going to do about this? I don’t understand why Pansy has told you at all to be honest. If this is true then surely  _ they _ should be talking to you; not her.”

 

“She said she was at her wit's end, seeing them both mope about after me. A side only Pansy got to see apparently, but still… She said, and I quote,” Hermione used her fingers to make inverted quotation marks in front of her. “They’ve liked you for years, Granger. Now the war is done I decided to step in. Those boys are like my brothers, and I’m fed up of seeing both of them still so miserable. You are what will make them happy so here I am...interfering. They won’t be happy with me, but anything’s better than seeing their sorry faces every day. End quote.” Hermione said lowering her arms back down and re-sliding one through Harry’s to continue their walk.

 

“Damn, Hermione. I just can’t believe this. I can’t believe I missed the fact Malfoy and Zabini are a couple either. How did you find out about that?”

 

“Oh, that I figured out in fifth year. It wasn’t hard to notice if you happened to be looking,” she smiled quite smugly, happy to be right about something again.

 

“And why would you be watching what Malfoy and Zabini were like together in fifth year?” He asked smirking at her. He had a good idea why she’d been watching them, even if Hermione didn’t. 

 

“I...well, I…”  _ Shite, _ she didn’t have an answer for him. Why had she been watching Malfoy and Zabini close enough to know that they were indeed in a relationship? Something else to add to her ever growing list of things to think about and examine. 

 

“So?” Harry asked, stepping over a rock on their walk around the lake. 

 

Hermione sighed, she didn’t have an answer for him at this moment. “I don’t know Harry. It’s all too much to process. I suppose I will have to say something to them if I ever want to use my common room again.”

 

“Sounds like a good idea. And Hermione?”

 

“Yes, Harry,” she responded looking up at her best friend.

 

Harry stopped walking and turned to face her. He placed both of his hands on her shoulders and squeezed gently. “Me and Ron will support you. No matter what you decide to do. We will always be here for you. We both know that Malfoy has changed. So, whatever happens next, you can always come to us.” he finished, smiling down at his wild-haired friend.

 

Hermione thought about how much Harry and Ron had matured over the last year. Both of them seemed so much older than their eighteen years. She hoped with all her heart that Ginny wouldn’t let her hatred of Hermione come between the couple. As much as Hermione didn’t want anything to do with the redhead, she did want to see Harry happy, and she knew how much he loved Ginny.

 

“Thank you, Harry. You have no idea how much that means to me to have both of your support and friendship.”

 

“Any time Hermione. Shall we head back to the castle? It’s cold, and it’s getting late.” he asked her as he shivered from the chilly breeze blowing around them. 

 

“Sure thing.”

 

Grinning evilly at her, he asked, “And where would you like me to escort you too? Gryffindor tower or your own Heads’ rooms?”

 

“Urgh… I suppose I should go and speak to my roommates.”

 

“There’s the girl I know. Dig deep for that Gryffindor courage I know you have and go and confront those two idiots. You’ll probably feel better if you do,” he grinned.

 

Determined to do just that she strode purposefully towards the castle’s huge entrance doors, hell-bent on having it out with those devious snakes. As they entered through the doors, they saw a very out of breath Ron running towards them.

 

“Oh, good, I found you both,” he panted leaning forward and resting his hands on his knees to try and catch his breath.

 

“Ron, whatever is the matter?” Hermione asked as she and Harry moved towards their friend.

 

“It’s Ginny. I tried talking to her, but I swear that woman has lost the plot. She was so angry about me writing to mum about her behaviour,” Ron rushed out in such a hurry that Hermione and Harry were having a hard time making out what he was saying.

 

“Slow down Mate,” Harry suggested. He pulled Ron back up to a standing position and motioned Hermione to follow them as Harry led Ron towards a bench by the wall. They sat, Ron in the middle, with Hermione and Harry on either side of him. 

 

“Start again,” Harry said a little worriedly. What the hell had happened for Ron to look so panicked.

 

Ron took a few deep breaths, he turned to look at Hermione and swept one of her loose curls behind her ear. “Mione, you’ve got to be careful. Ginny was saying how this was all your fault and how she would get revenge on you.”

 

“Me?” Hermione asked wide eyed. “What exactly have I done?” 

 

“Hermione, I’m sorry,” She heard Harry say. “I asked Ron to write to Molly about Ginny’s treatment of you. She obviously hasn’t taken it well.”

 

“No mate, she didn’t,” Ron confirmed looking at Harry next to him. “She started screaming that everyone always took Hermione’s side, even her own mother. She’s completely lost it this time. I tried to hold onto her and try to get her to calm down, but the bitch hexed me and ran off. I’ve been trying to find you both since. I didn’t know whether she would actually try and come after you Mione,” he said grabbing hold of her hand and squeezing tightly.

 

“Oh, Ron. She wouldn’t try and physically hurt me, I’m sure of it.” Hermione answered him confidently, smiling at her worried friend. “If it makes you feel better though, you can both escort me back to my room.” Hermione stood and waited for both boys to stand as well. She noticed the look between Harry and Ron that said ‘we’ll talk about this later.’

 

Once they'd reached the heads room, Ron was amused to see Snape in her portrait. 

 

“Something funny, Potter, Weasley?” The grumpy, black clothed, ex-professor sneered at them both as they began giggling. 

 

“Oh no, nothing Sir,” they both answered together, trying to contain their laughter. 

 

“Blimey Hermione, you didn't tell me you had to put up with this every day,” Ron said once he'd stop laughing. 

 

“Don't be silly Ronald,” she huffed. “He's been fine.”

 

“I still can't believe your portrait is Snape, Hermione,” Harry said still amused. He remembered the shock of seeing his former potions professor when he'd come here last week for the Prefect’s meeting. 

 

“Oh really you two, grow up,” she chastised them.

 

“Really though Mione,” Ron spoke, moving closer to her, all playfulness gone. “Please be careful about Ginny. I've never seen her like this, and I'm worried.”

 

“Me too, Hermione,” Harry added. “I'll speak to her later if I can find her.” Harry pulled her in for a hug and in a lower voice so Ron wouldn't hear. “Remember what I said. We're here if you need anything.”

 

“Thank you, Harry,” replied Hermione, squeezing her friend tight before letting go and accepting a hug from Ron as well. 

 

“Meet us for breakfast?” Ron asked as they both turned to make there way back to their room. 

 

“Of course,” she answered brightly as they walked off, turning to Snape and telling him the password.

 

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

 

Before the door opened Snape caught her by surprise.

 

“Miss Granger, I do hope you'll be able to cheer up your roommates in some way. They have been looking rather glum the last few days,” he said knowingly. 

 

Hermione blushed at this—sure that Snape somehow knew what was going on. It wasn't possible for a portrait to use Legilimens— _ was it?  _

 

She shook her head,  _ no, of course, it wasn't. Silly Hermione.  _

 

She mumbled an embarrassed goodnight to Snape, without answering and made her way through the entrance. In truth, she wasn't sure what she was going to say to either wizard. Hermione was hoping that they'd both be in their room and she wouldn't have to see them tonight. 

 

So it warmed and nerved her slightly to see them both as she stepped into the common room. Blaise was laying flat on his back on the couch, and Malfoy was cuddled into his side, one arm draped across Blaise's stomach. She couldn't see their faces as they had a substantial sized book rested on Blaise's chest blocking their heads from her view. 

 

They obviously hadn't heard her come in, so she stood there for a few seconds gathering her thoughts and thinking they looked quite adorable tangled there together along the sofa. What she wouldn't give to have someone to cuddle against, to be close to and share things with. She did feel miserably alone most of the time. 

 

She sighed loudly which must have caught the two wizards attention as she watched Blaise lower the book. She looked from one to the other. Blaise had a small look of surprise flit across his features as he studied her face, before his lips raised into a smile. 

 

“Hermione,” he said.

 

“Blaise,” she answered, moving her gaze across to Malfoy. 

 

The look on his face made her breath catch in her throat. His eyes had darkened and seemed to be burning through her soul with his stare alone.”

 

“Dr..Draco,” she stammered, unnerved by that penetrating gaze of his. 

 

“Granger,” he whispered in a husky drawl. 

 

She tore her eyes away from his, looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath before squaring her shoulders and levelling her gaze at both of them. 

 

“I think we need to talk.”


	9. Confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everybody,  
> Here's a new chapter for you.  
> It's time for Hermione to confront those two devious snakes! 
> 
> I would like to clear one thing up after reading some recent reviews. I said at the beginning of this story that there would be Ginny bashing. This is the only fic I plan to do this with her. If you are not a fan of Ginny hating please do not read this story. Trust me, she's going to get a lot worse in future chapters!
> 
> Come chat to me on tumblr...  
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/coyg-81
> 
> As always beta love to the amazing SaintDionysus. 
> 
> Let me know what you think.
> 
> ~coyg_81

THIS LIFE

~•~•~•~•~

Chapter Nine

 

Confessions

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Both boys sat up and looked at the witch who had taken a seat on one of the armchairs near the sofa. Hermione took a deep breath before facing them both, but before she had a chance to speak, Blaise got there first.

 

“What’s this about Hermione?” he asked gently. The witch had been ignoring them for the last few days, and he wanted to tread carefully with her so as not to scare her off.

 

“I think we need to clear the air,” Hermione answered, looking over at Blaise. He was worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and regarding her curiously. 

 

Draco sighed before he stood and made his way into the small kitchenette and came back a few seconds later with a bottle of Firewhiskey and three glasses; he set it down on the table in front of them. Pouring out three generous measures, Draco passed them to each of the people on either side of him. They both accepted the alcoholic offering and sipped quietly. 

 

“I thought we'd probably need alcohol for this conversation,” he remarked, not sure which way this was going to go; he’d rather be drunk when she told them she wanted nothing to do with them. He sat back next to Blaise and looked across at their little lioness. She was fidgeting her hands in her lap around her glass and chewing the inside of her mouth; she was nervous. Draco watched as she took a large gulp of her whiskey, leant forward to place the glass on the table in front of them and sat back up, squared her shoulders and looked them both in the eye. Draco swallowed at the fierce and determined look on her face before she confronted them, although he noticed a nervousness in her eyes. 

 

“Do you two like me?” she asked bluntly, feeling her heart rate increase slightly. 

 

“What?” they both answered at the same time, surprise written across both their faces. Neither wizard was expecting that.

 

“You heard me,” Hermione clarified, “So answer me. Do you both like me in a way that could be more than friends?”

 

Blaise glanced at Draco through his peripheral and saw the blond wizard nod his head slightly at him. 

 

They had spoken about this a couple of days ago and decided that if this conversation came up, then they would be honest with her. Draco had been whining about Hermione ignoring them both, and by Tuesday morning Draco had had enough of the silent treatment, but Blaise had talked him down from confronting her about it.

 

_ “She’ll come to us when she’s good and ready Draco. Don’t push her.” _ Blaise had told him. 

 

He’d replied, _ “She’s got until the weekend, and then I’m speaking to her.” _

 

They had a feeling that Pansy had said something to the witch; she had been threatening to all summer, even though both wizards had asked her not to, and Pansy had been acting a little shifty around them since last weekend.

 

_ The same time Hermione started ignoring us, _ Draco thought. 

 

Blaise set his whiskey down and moved to sit on the edge of the coffee table in front of Hermione. He placed both of his hands on her knees and looked into her amber eyes.

 

“Hermione,” he spoke quietly, “We will tell you the truth, but please promise me you won’t hex us or run off before we finish explaining.” 

 

“I won’t Blaise,” Hermione confirmed, staring into his eyes and thinking how handsome he was. He had dark brown, almost obsidian coloured eyes that were a wide almond shape. High cheekbones that led to a straight nose, and the most delectable lips Hermione thought she'd ever seen. She'd never had a chance to study his features up close, but she had to admit he was a good-looking wizard. 

 

Hermione glanced over at Draco who hadn’t moved a muscle. When he wasn't sneering or smirking he was also a very good looking wizard. His white-blond hair fell across his forehead. She'd caught him a couple of time blowing the hair from his eyes as he leaned over his homework or while reading a book and he had eyes the colour of rain clouds on a stormy day. Hermione could admit this about him, but his ugly personality over the years had made him ugly on the outside to her as well. Maybe she could change her thinking based on how he'd been acting recently. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Draco was petrified. He had loved Hermione for more years than he cared to remember and couldn't deal with her hearing the truth and rejecting him and Blaise as anything more than friends, and that was only if she could handle being friends with them both. He didn't think he could stick around for this conversation. Draco knew the time had come though; he wanted her to know how they both felt about her, he’d just let Blaise do the talking as he seemed mentally incapable of stringing two words together. The panic raging through him was all he could concentrate on at the moment.

 

Hermione turned her gaze back to Blaise and waited for him to collect his thoughts before speaking to her. 

 

“Ok Hermione, here goes,” he exhaled a breath before continuing. “First off, have you spoken to Pansy in the last week?”

 

“Yes,” she answered truthfully. She noticed Draco tense up at this answer.

 

“Ok. What did she have to say for herself?” he continued.

 

“She… she told me that you both like me - more than a friendship level kind of like, and that you have done for years. Both of you.” Hermione answered, trying to come across as confident; even though she felt anything but. She looked over at Draco; he still hadn’t moved and wouldn’t look at her.

 

“And what would you say if we told you what Pansy spoke was the truth?” Blaise asked nervously.

 

Hermione had thought of nothing else over the last few days. After talking with Pansy, she hadn’t been able to come up with an answer on what her reaction would be if Pansy had been telling the truth. It was only a week ago that Draco had apologised to her and they had decided to try and be friends. Anything more than that hadn't been in her realm of thinking—at all. 

 

What Harry had asked her earlier this very evening was also running through her head. Why had she been watching the two Slytherins so intently from fifth year onwards? She liked to think that it had everything to do with the fact that Draco had been his worst that year following her and her friends around under the guise of the Inquisitorial Squad and trying to catch them at their D.A meetings. 

 

It still didn't explain why she'd been thinking of them both though; Blaise hadn't been a part of Umbridge's squad, but Hermione had still worked out the truth about Blaise and Draco's relationship. She would have only done that if she'd been looking closely. It's wasn't like either boy had flaunted their relationship. 

 

“I… I think I'd be shocked,” she answered him honestly. 

 

“Why?” Blaise asked. Both wizards looked at her waiting for the answer. 

 

“I… I wasn't expecting this. It's all too much Blaise,” Hermione whispered looking down at his hands on her knees. “I didn't know you both liked girls and especially me.”

 

“We don't,” Draco spoke up. 

 

Hermione whipped her head round to look at him, shocked that he had spoken at last and confused by his answer. 

 

“We don't like girls,” Draco explained quietly, looking up and catching her eye.  “We just like you, Granger,” he ground out between clenched teeth. 

 

“But… I don't understand,” she replied quietly to the blond wizard. “I—”

 

“You what, Granger? You can't believe that we both have feelings for you?” Draco asked her with his trademark Malfoy sneer etched on his face before he stood and placed his glass down on the table with a bang and made his way to the exit. 

 

“Draco, where are you going?” Blaise asked him, concerned for his boyfriend. 

 

Draco paused with his hand on the doorknob; he turned back to Blaise sitting in front of Hermione, both of them looking at him with worried glances. 

 

“I can't do this Blaise. I… I can't be here for this,” he said, wrenching the door open and disappearing through it. 

 

Blaise and Hermione looked at each other both a little shocked at Draco's reaction. 

 

“Why did he leave Blaise?” Hermione asked, almost in tears. Her emotions were roiling inside her. She hadn't had enough time to think about all of this, but she had to confront them over her talk with Pansy. The atmosphere in their common room the last few days had been tense, and Hermione knew herself well enough to know that she wouldn't rest until she had some clear answers. Her chat earlier with Harry had given her the confidence boost she needed to talk to them. The fact that these two wizards wanted to be with her was still rather unorthodox thinking in the wizarding world, as it was in the muggle one, even though it was more recognised among wizards and witches and three-way marriages had been legal for years in the magical community. That part she wasn't even really thinking about. It was the fact that it was Draco Malfoy that wanted a relationship with her and how much he had changed, let alone the fact that he wanted to share her with his lover and best friend — Blaise. 

 

Hermione had also been surprised by Harry's reaction when she'd told him. She wasn't expecting him to make a joke about it and then tell her that he and Ron would support any decision she made regarding the two Slytherins. She loved her friends for their loyalty to her, even though she could tell Harry was a little confused about the situation and knew Ron would go mental if he ever found out, she knew they would always stick by her. 

 

“He would kill me for telling you this Hermione,” Blaise said softly, pulling her attention back to him. He ran a hand down his face before placing it back on Hermione's knee. “He's scared.”

 

“Scared? Of what?” Hermione asked the tense looking wizard in front of her. 

 

“Rejection,” he whispered. 

 

“Rejection? From who?”

 

“You know, for someone who's supposed to be the smartest witch of our generation, you can be very blinkered sometimes,” Blaise told her in a tone he hoped hadn't come across as mocking. 

 

“Me?” Hermione asked a little bewildered. 

 

“Yes, you Granger.”

 

Hermione moved Blaise's hands from her knees, stood up and started pacing in front of the fireplace while drinking big gulps of the whiskey Draco had given her. Blaise looked over his shoulder at her. He could tell her mind was trying to take in what they'd told her. After a few minutes of the witch trying to wear the rug out from her pacing, she turned to her roommate. 

 

“I think you need to start from the beginning Blaise,” she said, making her way over to the sofa and falling onto it in a most unladylike fashion. She sighed deeply before reaching forward for the whiskey bottle and refilling her glass. She held the bottle toward Blaise, silently asking if he also wanted a top up. He grabbed his glass and moved to sit next to the wound up witch. She poured him a generous measure before putting the bottle back down and turned to face him. 

 

Hermione stared right into his eyes as she took a drink and raised her eyebrows at him defiantly. 

 

“The beginning you say?” Blaise asked quietly, not sure where to start.

 

Hermione nodded and swallowed deeply. She was internally psyching herself up to hear what he had to say without having one of her episodes in front of him. 

 

“The day we started Hogwarts; on the train to be precise, was the first time Draco noticed you,” Blaise started. “You were all haughty, with your nose stuck in the air demanding we tell you if we'd seen Longbottom's toad,” he smiled as recalled the memory. 

 

“I remember that,” she answered him wistfully, thinking back to that day. She supposed she was haughty back then. She'd had a point to prove to everyone that Muggle-borns were just as good as half-bloods and purebloods. When Hermione had found out about her status as a witch, she had done as much research as possible and insisted McGonagall chaperone her and her parents to Diagon Alley as soon as possible. She wanted to buy as many books as she could to give her the head start she thought she'd needed. By the time she stepped onto that train for the first time, Hermione knew she would have her work cut out for her to be welcomed and accepted in the wizarding world and just how far behind everyone else she was — hence the reason for her holier than thou attitude. It was her defence mechanism. 

 

“I was rather haughty,” Hermione giggled. 

 

“You certainly were. You rubbed people up the wrong way from day one… except for Draco,” Blaise tacked on at the end. 

 

Hermione looked at him with furrowed brows, “Really?” She asked. 

 

“Yes, really,” he replied, smirking at her. 

 

Hermione blew a curl away from her face and sat back on the sofa. 

 

“He thought you were fearsome, the way you'd torn through our carriage like a hurricane. He was in such a good mood that day. He'd told me how excited he was to be starting Hogwarts and to finally be free of his father for a few months.” Blaise told her, smiling at the memory. 

 

“Do you know why Draco wished you dead and called you  _ mudblood _ in second year?” Blaise asked the stunned witch and feeling himself shudder slightly from using  _ that  _ word. 

 

“N… n… no?” Hermione stammered. 

 

“That first summer we went home, I was spending a few days at Malfoy Manor, and all Draco could talk about was you. Once he found out about your being muggle-born and then sorted into Gryffindor, he knew he wouldn't be able to have a friendship with you. Especially after you befriended Potter and Weasley a few weeks later. Merlin was he pissed about that. Anyway...” Blaise continued waving a hand dismissively getting off topic.

 

“That didn't stop him talking about you to me every chance he got.  _ Lucius, _ ” he hissed the Malfoy patriarchs name. “He was listening outside the door one day as Draco was telling me that he couldn't believe what his father had told him about Muggle-borns being inferior when you were already so accomplished at our age. He studied so hard that first year trying to get better grades than you. It didn't work — as you know,” he winked at her and Hermione blushed. “I won't go into details, Hermione, but I heard the sound of Draco's screams as his father beat him and demanded that when he sees you again he was to start calling you mudblood and if he didn't best you in class next year then he could look forward to some time in the dungeons the following summer.”

 

“What?” Hermione asked him on the verge of tears at what she was hearing. She'd never thought about Draco's home life back then. She'd just seen him as the prejudiced, spoilt git he'd been. She was more upset than she thought at the realisation of what he'd been through. 

 

“Dear old Lucius would lock Draco in the dungeons beneath the manor if he ever defied him. Sometimes he would be shut down there for days or weeks at a time,” Blaise explained, clearing his throat because the memories were upsetting him. 

 

“Blaise,” Hermione whispered, placing her glass on the table and reaching to take one of his hands between both of hers. 

 

He lifted his head to look at her, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. 

 

“I'm so sorry. I didn't know it was like that. To be honest, I never gave Draco's home life a thought. He was such a—”

 

“Yeah I know,” Blaise interrupted her. “And that's just a snippet; believe me. It was a whole lot worse than that the older he got, but maybe you can start to see why he is the way he is — or  _ was _ .”

 

“I suppose so,” Hermione acquiesced. She was being  shown a different side of Draco right now

 

“So anyway, Draco always had a soft spot for you Hermione, and even though it must have been truly horrible for you having him call you such vile names and act in such a horrid way towards to you, I can assure you that he never meant any of it. In a way — and I know this is going to sound all kinds of fucked up — I think he was secretly pleased you always retaliated against his taunts, because it kept him within your radar, even if it was for nefarious reasons. In Draco's head, negative attention was better than no attention.”

 

“Wow, Blaise… just… wow, really. I don't even know what to say. That really is fucked up,” Hermione never swore aloud if she could help it but hearing that, the expletive had left her mouth subconsciously. She was a little shocked at herself. What the hell was she supposed to make of what Blaise had just said? 

 

“I just wanted you to know that this isn't a game to us. Pansy has interfered when we told her not to but the fact is we do both like you, and yes, I do mean in a way that's more than friends,” he clarified, answering her earlier question. “I'll answer any questions you have—which I'm sure are many,” he smirked. 

 

Hermione sat with her head rested against the back of the sofa and stared at the ceiling lost in thought. 

 

She hadn't realised how bad Draco's upbringing had been. The punishments from his father had shocked her, and she wondered what role his mother — the regal Narcissa Malfoy had played during Draco's upbringing. She obviously loved Draco very much, or she wouldn't have lied to Voldemort about Harry. 

 

Hermione certainly had a lot of questions, but first, she turned to look at her roommate with narrowed eyes, wanting to know what his part was. 

 

“So what about you Blaise? What's your side of the story here?

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Draco had left through the heads portrait intent on grabbing the bottle of firewhiskey he had stashed in his room in the Slytherin dungeons and going to sit out by the Quidditch pitch for some fresh air and to think. 

 

Snape had called him back as he began stomping away. 

 

“What?” Draco had hissed at his godfather in the portrait. 

 

“Don't take that tone with me,” Snape drawled out in his own way that was so familiar to Draco after having heard him use it many times in the classroom—normally aimed at Potter, Draco sniggered childishly to himself. 

 

Sighing loudly, Draco asked him what he wanted. He wasn't in the mood for one of Snape's lectures right now. He just wanted to get wasted and think about Quidditch and how to beat Potter this season, rather than about how Blaise was probably divulging intimate details about his life and how Hermione was still turning them down anyway. Not that he thought for one second that she would be so overcome with pity for him that she'd jump into a relationship with him and Blaise. 

 

Hell, he'd take just friends for now. It didn't matter what Blaise told her; the fact was she didn't know that it hurt Draco to throw insults at her and see her upset over something he had said or done to her. All she knew was Draco, the bully. He had years of regret to make up for and knew Hermione wouldn't forgive him in the space of a week. He just wanted the chance for her too. 

 

“You need to write to your mother, Draco. She is worried about you,” Snape told him. 

 

“You're visiting with my mother?” He asked a little surprised. 

 

Draco knew that Snape and his mother had been close when he had been alive. Narcissa was proficient in potions and alchemy, so they always had a lot to discuss. It used to annoy his father to no end to find the two of them always whispering together over cups of tea every time Snape would visit the manor. 

 

Draco knew his mother had installed a frame in her prized sunroom for Snape to visit whenever he wanted in the months following the war, but he didn't think his ex-professor was doing so. 

 

“Of course I do, Draco. You know your mother and I are close, and she asked me to keep an eye on you this year,” Snape declared. 

 

“She what?” He growled. 

 

“You know your mother; always worrying. She also told me of the situation with Mr Zabini and Miss Granger.”

 

“FUCK!” Draco shouted, grabbing his hair in both hands and kicking the wall. “She had no fucking right,” he continued to fume. 

 

“Calm down this instant,” Snape shouted folding his arms across his chest, watching his black robes billowing around him. “What do you think I'm going to do?” Snape asked. “March in there and demand she marry you immediately? Don't be an idiot Draco.” 

 

“Well, no… of course not,” Draco snapped back. 

 

“No. Very well then, if I may speak without an interruption now?” Snape asked angrily. 

 

Draco, who had moved his arms down to his sides and had both fists clenched, stared hard at him. It wouldn't do well to lose it now and alert the two inside the room to his continued and distressed presence talking to his godfather had brought about. 

 

“I suppose you're reporting everything you hear back to mother?” He accused. “Why can't you keep your noses out of my business?”

 

“Your mother just worries Draco. At least this way I can placate her with some news. You haven't written to her since your first night back, when you told her that Miss Granger had fainted in fright from seeing you,” Snape paused to give Draco a second to process this. 

 

“She had been so worried that I stopped by to assure her that everything was ok. Now, do you think she wouldn't have been up here in a flash if I  _ hadn't _ of spoken to her, and she  _ hadn't _ heard from you?”

 

Draco released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and his shoulders slumped slightly. 

 

“You're right. Of course, professor. I have been remiss in replying to her letters. I've had other things on my mind. I will rectify that and write to her first thing in the morning.” Draco spoke, his usual Malfoy posture in place. He didn't mean to make his mother worry. 

 

“Good. Now, one more thing. Do you think it's wise for you and Mr Zabini to try and pursue Miss Granger at this time?” He asked rather gently for him. Snape cared a lot for his godson and would do everything he could to see him succeed. If a rather unorthodox three-way relationship between Draco, Blaise Zabini and Hermione Granger were what he wanted, then he — Severus Snape — would do all he could to help him. But he thought now wasn't the right time to add any pressure to the young Gryffindor. If what McGonagall had told Snape about Hermione's mental well-being was true, then he didn't want his godson and boyfriend screwing up their chances by pressuring her. 

 

Draco could read him well. The man had taught him Legilimency and Occlumency for Merlin's sake; he knew his godfather cared about him and didn't want him to mess everything up like he usually did. 

 

“Believe me, professor, if it had of been down to me I would have kept the truth from her for a while yet but the delightful Pansy got in our way,” Draco sneered. He and Pansy were going to be talking about her involvement very soon. 

 

“I see. Is that why you're running, and Mr Zabini is calming whatever situation this is?”  

 

“That's right. I'm going for a walk, and I'd rather not discuss this anymore,” Draco informed the professor starting to back away. 

 

Knowing he wouldn't get anything else from him, he told Draco not to forget to write to his mother first thing. 

 

“I will, professor… and… thanks,” Draco said, genuinely meaning it. It did help to have him as a go-between for him and his mother. 

 

All he wanted to do right now though was grab the whiskey and be on his way. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

He made it to the dungeons to retrieve his much-needed alcohol and out the front door without being spotted by Filch or that disgusting cat of his. 

 

He twisted the cap off his firewhiskey and threw it to the floor.  _ No point in keeping that _ he thought as he swigged like a commoner straight from the bottle,  _ I'll be finishing the whole thing. _ The plan was to get so drunk that he passed out in a blur with no thoughts on his mind whatsoever. 

 

As he drank with his head tilted back, he stumbled down the small hill in front of the Quidditch pitch not looking where he was going and heard someone laugh as he tried to regain his balance without spilling his drink. 

 

Once Draco had righted himself he peered through the darkness trying to see who had laughed. He made a drunken grab for his wand and cast a dull Lumos.

 

Harry _ ‘fucking saviour of the fucking world, the bane of Draco's fucking existence’  _ Potter, stood before him grinning like a drunken twat. His hair was unmentionable, and his glasses were skewed across his face. Draco noticed the redness in his cheeks and the smell of alcohol emanating from him. He was pissed. While Draco was just beginning to feel the effect of the whiskey he had drunk on his way down to the pitch, the boy who refused to die was completely inebriated. 

 

“Potter,” Draco drawled with his Malfoy sneer plastered across his aristocratic features. 

 

“Malfoy,” Harry spat back. 

 

“What are you doing here?” Draco asked while barging past him towards the entrance. 

 

“Could ask you the same thing ferret. Aren't you supposed to be talking with your boyfriend and my best friend right now?” He slurred while swaying slightly where he stood. 

 

“And what the fuck do you know about it Scarhead?” 

 

“More than you think Malfoy,” Harry answered following behind him. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	10. Blaise's Side of the Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everyone. New chapter for you all. 
> 
> It's time to hear from Blaise and what he has got to say.  
> Hope you enjoy it.
> 
> As always, beta love to SaintDionysus 
> 
> Come chat to me on Tumblr... https://www.tumblr.com/blog/coyg-81
> 
> Happy Reading  
> ~coyg_81

THIS LIFE

~•~•~•~•~

Chapter Ten

 

Blaise’s Side of the Story

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

_ Recap: _

 

_ She hadn't realised how bad Draco's upbringing had been. The punishments from his father had shocked her, and she wondered what role his mother — the regal Narcissa Malfoy had played during Draco's upbringing. She obviously loved Draco very much, or she wouldn't have lied to Voldemort about Harry.  _

 

_ Hermione certainly had a lot of questions, but first, she turned to look at her roommate with narrowed eyes, wanting to know what his part was.  _

 

_ “So what about you Blaise? What's your side of the story here? _

 

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

  
  


Blaise took a deep breath before continuing his talk with Hermione. He had already divulged secrets about Draco, now it was his turn, and he was going to be honest with her. 

 

“As you know Hermione, myself and Draco are always together, so nothing escapes my attention where he's concerned. I notice the subtle differences in his moods,” Blaise began explaining before Hermione interrupted him.

 

“I thought we were going to talk about you Blaise—not Draco.”

 

“I'm starting at the beginning and therefore setting the scene,” Blaise winked at her. 

 

Hermione couldn't help but giggle at him. _ Such a drama queen.  _

 

“Whatever you say, Blaise,” she said smiling. 

 

“As I was saying… I notice the small changes in his moods. First year he talked about you nonstop. He looked at you all the damn time in the Great Hall and classes; sly little glances he didn't think anyone could see. If we were already sitting at our table for mealtime and you hadn't got there yet, I knew he was tense. I'd watch him visibly relax when he saw you enter. It was only slight, but I noticed.” He paused and drank for a second so she could process what he'd said. 

 

“Second year it seemed like he had got over it because that's when he really started being a nasty little arsehole.”

 

Hermione raised her eyebrows at Blaise's description of Draco back then. He wasn't wrong; she was just surprised he'd been so honest. 

 

“Come on Hermione,” Blaise declared, “You know he was awful that year. I think Lucius punished him so hard over that summer that he blamed you a little—”

 

“Me?” She interrupted him again. How could she have been the reason why Draco was so horrid to her at that time. She felt her stomach swoop at the realisation that Draco had blamed her for his punishments and it made her feel ten times worse; for him and her. 

 

“Yes, you. You got inside his head on day one, and you never left.” He explained, missing the worried look on her face. “We were eleven don't forget. That's a lot to deal with at that age. An abusive father, a new school, a girl he had feelings for, but couldn't understand what they were; let alone act on it because of your blood status and house,” Blaise explained. “So he took it out on you. I caught him crying the first time he called you that word. He didn't think anyone was in our room, but I was, and I heard him. That made me think that he did like you more than he was letting on and so I started to watch you,” he mumbled the last part and looked down into his glass. 

 

“Blaise, wait… slow down,” Hermione exclaimed fearfully. This was all too much to comprehend. She felt that rush of warmth spread from her head downward—like a hot flush, her anxiety was rising making her chest feel tight, and the panic was setting in making it hard for her to breathe. Hermione needed some fresh air and needed it  _ now _ . The effect of the alcohol wasn't helping; she was losing control. 

 

“Oh god,” she cried out, jumping up from the sofa and making her way over to the small window. She opened it as wide as it would go and the cold night air hit her face. She breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly, trying to control her wildly racing heart. She steadied herself by pressing both hands against the sides of the window frame. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut to stop the tears from falling down her cheeks when she felt a strong pair of arms snake around her waist and steady her further. 

 

“Hermione, what the hell? Are you ok?” Blaise breathed out worriedly, pulling her back a little. Hermione went willingly with Blaise as he continued to pull her further back into the room. Blaise turned her in his arms and rested her head into the crook of his shoulder, listening to the small gasping noises she was making, followed by the sounds of crying. Her small shoulders shook, as she grabbed fistfuls of his shirt as she clung to him. He tightened his hold on her. Blaise kept one arm around her waist and moved the other to run his hand through her hair and down the side of her face, wiping away the tears from her cheek. “Shh Hermione. It’s alright,” he murmured softly, trying to comfort her as gently as possible, even though he was panicked and his heart was racing at seeing her like that. She didn’t answer him; she just continued to tremble in his hold. 

 

They stayed like that for a few minutes with Blaise murmuring that she was ok into her ear and encouraging her to take deep breaths to try and calm her down. He continued to stroke his hand through her hair until he felt her stop trembling so much and her breathing start to even out a little.

 

When he sure it was passing, he moved his hand down to behind her knees and lifted her bridal style, making his way over to her room.

 

“Blaise,” Hermione croaked in surprise, “What are you doing?”

 

“I’m going to put you in bed Hermione,” Blaise answered quietly noticing how little she weighed in his arms. Her door was already ajar, so he kicked it open and placed her down on the end of the bed. He knelt down and began to take her shoes off. 

 

“Blaise—”

 

“Hermione,” Blaise sighed. “Trust me, please. I’m just taking care of you and making sure you’re alright.”

 

Blaise stood once he’d finished with her shoes and leaned forward to loosen and remove her tie. He stood back and offered her his hand.

 

“Come,” he ordered, “You need rest.”

 

Hermione took his hand, and he gently guided her around to the side of the bed, pulled back the duvet and helped her settle in as he arranged the covers, tucking her in like a child. 

 

“How are you feeling?” He asked carefully, not wanting a repeat of what just happened. She had really scared him earlier. That was the second time in a week she had had a panic attack; or the start of one at least.

 

“I’m fine,” Hermione whispered, feeling a little embarrassed. “Blaise?” she questioned looking at him.

 

“Yes?” 

 

“Will you stay with me for a while?” 

 

She asked so innocently with those big doe eyes, Blaise couldn’t refuse her, and if he was honest, he didn’t want to leave her alone right now. He walked around to the other side of the bed without answering and felt her eyes follow him.  He removed his shoes and laid down next to her—on top of the duvet, and stared at the ceiling. 

 

Blaise heard her sigh in relief and she turned on her side to face him. It was silent in the darkened room, the only light was the faint glow of the moon seeping through the curtains as they both gathered their thoughts and calmed down. 

 

“Hermione,” Blaise whispered, not wanting to startle her. 

 

“Yes.”

 

“You scared me back there. Explain to me what happened.” Blaise was feeling quite shaken at seeing Hermione like that. Draco had told him what it was like when she'd fainted in front of him and when she'd had a nightmare a few days ago. He said he'd felt helpless—like he was standing in that ballroom all over again. It still hadn't prepared Blaise for seeing it first hand. 

 

After everything she had already fought for; to be left with these kinds of mental scars must be hard to live with. Blaise told himself that the war only ended a few months ago and that she just needed time. He hoped he and Draco would be around to try and help her through it. And vice-versa as Blaise knew Draco was carrying around some serious emotional baggage concerning the war as well. He turned his head to look at her. She had her hands under her pillow and was looking at him thoughtfully, deciding on how to explain her panic attacks to him. 

 

“I can't really describe it,” she said, speaking quietly. 

 

Blaise gave her an encouraging smile, and she smiled back before continuing. 

 

“I suppose you could say that I get overwhelmed. It's like an overload of thoughts and feelings, and my brain doesn't know how to cope with it all at once. It feels like a pressure cooker inside my head, and then I start loosing my breath, my chest tightens, and it's like the room is closing in on me and I can't breathe and I… I… can't,” she cried out rolling onto her back and clutching at her shirt, trying to get it away from her body. Just talking about it was making her experience it again. 

 

“Shit, Hermione,” Blaise quickly reached for her and managed to secure her in his arms. They were in the same position as earlier only this time they were lying down. 

 

Blaise had Hermione tucked into his side with one arm around her back and the other cupping the side of her face as he tried to calm her down.

 

“Shh Hermione. Calm, deep breaths. Everything is going to be ok, I've got you, you're safe,” he repeated over and over until she relaxed a little and her breathing evened out. “I'm so sorry  _ Dolcezza _ . I didn't mean to upset you,” he told her, feeling beside himself with guilt. If he'd left it alone, she would have been alright. But he wanted to understand what it was like for her, so he and Draco could help in the future if it happened again.

 

“It's not your fault Blaise,” Hermione sighed as she moved out of Blaise's warm embrace and back to her side of the bed. Blaise pulled the covers up around her and made sure she was settled once more. 

 

“But that's what it's like sometimes. Just talking about it can set me off. Earlier I felt overwhelmed with everything you were telling me, and I couldn't cope with any more. The last few days have felt confusing and stressful to me,” Hermione admitted shyly. She didn't like to admit any weakness, but Blaise had been so kind and compassionate towards her, she felt comfortable talking to him about it. 

 

“I understand that. It’s been a lot for you to hear,” he told her tenderly. 

 

“It has, but I think this episode had more to do with hearing about how Draco was treated. The fact that he blamed me was hard to hear. I understand… of course. I understand why he blamed me, but it left me feeling guilty. Like it was somehow my fault,” Hermione admitted to Blaise, who stared at her with a sad look in his eyes.

 

“I shouldn’t have told you that.”

 

“No, I think you should have, and I’m glad you did. I told you I wanted to hear it all, even if it is hard to listen to some of it.”

 

“Ok then. As long as you’re ok,” he said wearily, he was suddenly overcome with tiredness. The adrenaline that had pumped through his body when Hermione had been in distress was now waning and left him feeling exhausted and strung out.

 

“I am, and thank you,” she said in a low voice. 

 

“What are you thanking me for?”

 

“For looking after me of course. I don’t normally let anyone get that close to me when that happens. I don’t like to feel closed in; like I’m trapped,” she explained to him. “But it helped this time, so thank you, and for putting me to bed, and now for sitting here having to listen to me prattle on.”

 

“What else would I have done?” he asked her, slightly confused. He wouldn’t have just left her in that state.

 

“Well to be honest, before coming back here, I’d have thought you would have laughed and left me like that and walked away,” Hermione admitted.

 

It was silent for a couple of minutes before he answered her. “Hermione, even before you found out how we both truly felt and you thought I was just the vain, arrogant prick who followed Draco around and looked down on muggleborns, I would never have just left you in that state. That’s not who I am, and that’s not how I was brought up.” 

 

“I’m sorry Blaise but how am I supposed to know that? We never spoke for seven years. Before we came back here, I just assumed you were like every other Slytherin in our year. Well, except maybe Nott. He never did strike me as a typical Slytherin.”

 

“Maybe we could both stop assuming things about the other and try to see each other for who we are now,” Blaise put to her. 

 

“Yes, you’re right. That was very judgmental of me. I apologise Blaise,” She said guiltily. 

 

“Don’t worry about it. If I were you I’d probably think the same,” Blaise assured her. “By the way, you’re very perceptive Hermione. That dirty old hat wanted to place Theo in Ravenclaw; he’s always been the quiet, studious one but he begged the hat to put him in Slytherin.”

 

“Why? Surely he would have been happier in a house he actually belonged in.”

 

“Not for Theo. You see Hermione, whatever you’ve already heard about Lucius, or will hear about him in the future; it’s nothing compared to Theo’s dad. If Theo had been sorted into Ravenclaw, there would have been hell to pay.”

 

“Is there one decent father among your lot Blaise? I mean, really? Lucius, Theo’s dad, Pansy’s, Goyles, the list goes on and on,” Hermione said sadly. 

 

“My own father was… amazing,” Blaise whispered so quietly, Hermione almost missed it.

 

“Really?” she asked hopefully. She would like to think that at least one of her Slytherin peers had had a normal childhood.

 

“Yes, really. My mother and father loved each other very much. They married for love, not for wealth and position, which was mostly unheard of back then. My mother’s side is Italian, and my father was English. He was in Milan on business when he met her. Anyway, long story short, father relocated to Italy, they married and had me.”

 

“Are they still in Italy?” she asked innocently and swallowed when she saw his eyes darken and take on a haunted look.

 

“No, they are not, unfortunately. My father passed away when I was seven and mother moved us to England.”

 

“Oh Blaise, I’m so sorry,” she choked out. Nearly everyone she knew had lost a parent or loved one. “We don’t have to talk about this anymore.”

 

“It’s fine, honestly. I can talk about it now; it was a long time ago.”

 

“If you’re sure,” Hermione asked him, looking for confirmation. This was a difficult subject, and she didn’t know Blaise well enough to know how he was going to react. Talking to Pansy about both of their situations with their own parents had been upsetting for them both, so she knew how Blaise felt.

 

“I’m sure  _ cara _ .” Blaise flashed her a knowing glance. The last time he’d used that was last Friday when they’d been drunk, and then things had gotten slightly out of hand. He had called her  _ Dolcezza _ tonight, and she hadn’t picked up on it so far, or she was just ignoring it.

 

“Ok,” she replied, ignoring his word choice completely, although she did have a mischievous glint in her eye as she smirked at him.

 

He threw her a heated look before continuing. “So, my mother and Narcissa were friends through Hogwarts and remained in contact once they’d left and mother had moved back to Italy. We would visit often and so would she and Draco. After father passed, mother married again five more times?”

 

“FIVE?” Hermione exclaimed loudly, shocked at what she’d heard.

 

“Yes, five,” Blaise confirmed. “She was always trying to find someone to replace my father, but none of them could ever live up to him. I finally intervened when she kicked out husband number six, three years ago. I told her she couldn’t go on like this, that she needed to grieve properly and be by herself. She agreed and even though it was hard, she’s so much better now, and still single,” he laughed.

 

Hermione grinned at him. “So, where is she now?”

 

“She’s living at Malfoy Manor,” Blaise smiled at the look on Hermione’s face at this bit of news. “During the last year of the war, she went back to Italy. Once everything had calmed down, and Narcissa was allowed back in the Manor she invited mother and me to come and live with her and Draco. Lucius is in Azkaban, my mother was lonely, and Narcissa knew she would be too once Draco had come back here.” 

 

Hermione nodded her head. “That makes sense.”

 

“So now they spend their days drinking wine, gossiping, and trying to find ways of interfering in their son's lives,” he sighed and rolled his eyes at the antics he and Draco’s mother got up to.

Hermione laughed at the image that formed in her mind from hearing that. She couldn’t quite imagine the poised and regal Narcissa Malfoy sloshed on wine and being bitchy with her friend. That’s what sixteen-year-old muggle girls did, not perfect, pure-blooded witches.

 

“I know it’s hard to imagine but trust me. Those two are most entertaining at times. Maybe you’ll see for yourself one day.” he said, hopefully.

 

“Maybe,” she whispered shyly.

 

Hearing that gave Blaise hope. Just that one little word…  _ maybe _ . That  _ maybe _ could mean everything one day.

 

It was silent in the room after that. Both of them contemplating what had been said tonight. The only noise was their joint breathing. 

 

“So, you started watching me?” Hermione suddenly announced, making Blaise jump at the sound of her voice. He had been so lost in thought wondering what that  _ maybe _ had meant. “What did you mean by that?”

 

“What?” he asked confused at the change in conversation.

 

“You said you'd noticed that Draco kept looking at me and giving me too much attention, so you started watching me,” Hermione reminded him of what they had been speaking about before her panic attack. 

 

“I just wanted to see what it was that Draco saw when I caught him looking at you,” he told her, remembering now what they'd been discussing. 

 

“And what did you see?” She asked shyly, turning her gaze away from his.  

 

“Are you sure you want to carry on with this conversation Hermione?” He didn't want to upset her. He never wanted to see her suffer like that again. 

 

“Yes,” she whispered. She felt better now she was lying down in the comfort of her bed, warm and safe. 

 

“Ok then, hold on for just a second. I'll be back,” Blaise told her moving off the bed and out the door. He came back carrying a glass of water, which he placed on her bedside table and his Firewhiskey that he’d been drinking before abandoning it to help her. He took his wand out, walked over to the fireplace and lit a fire, he drank the rest of the whiskey, before lying back down on the bed and turning on his side to face her. The soft light from the fire gave her face a warm glow. 

 

Blaise reached out and moved her hair back over one shoulder, he placed a finger under her chin and lifted her head until her eyes met his. 

 

“At first I didn't get it,” he said quietly. “You annoyed the shit out of me in class—Miss,  _ I know all the answers _ . Sometimes I wanted to throw a tickling hex at you when you raised your hand, bouncing up and down in your seat.” 

 

A small laugh escaped him as she pulled her face back from his hold and looked at him with narrowed eyes, a little offended by what he'd said.  

 

“Don't worry your pretty little head about it. Draco always stopped me,” he smirked at her. “I never said anything to him about the way he watched you or my thoughts on it. But everything changed for me during third year, after you broke his nose.”

 

“Did I really break his nose?” She asked proudly, remembering when she’d punched Draco and how good it had felt at the time. Hermione reached behind her for the water Blaise had thoughtfully brought in. 

 

“Indeed, you did. When he ran in with Crabbe and Nott, he swore them to secrecy and then came to find me in the library. I took one look at his bloodied face and marched him off to Pomfrey.” He chuckled as he remembered how much Draco had whined at having to stay in the infirmary overnight. 

 

“Wow!” Hermione exclaimed excitedly. “I bet he wasn't happy about that. I can't believe I broke his nose. I didn't even hit him that hard,” she choked out between fits of laughter and tried not to drop the glass she had in her hand. 

 

Once she stopped laughing, Hermione looked at Blaise. He was smiling at her; his eyes seemed to light up with her mirth. She watched those eyes darken the longer she stared at him. 

 

“What?” She whispered, nervous of the way he was looking at her so intently; like he wanted to rip her clothes off and take her right here. The atmosphere suddenly changed around her, it felt like electricity in the air, and she sucked in a sharp breath. 

 

“I like hearing you laugh Hermione,” he said, breaking the tension that had built up around them. “I don't think I've actually heard you laugh before.”  

 

“Oh.” Hermione couldn't think of anything else to say. She placed her glass back down and got comfy under her duvet once more. 

 

Blaise sighed. “Do you know what happened after that incident?” Blaise whispered, staring into her wide amber eyes, and not giving her the chance to respond to his confession about her laughing. He felt slightly embarrassed at having admitted that. 

 

“No, tell me?”  

 

“Well, I thought Draco would hate you for doing that to him, but I was wrong. If it was possible, he admired you even more,”

 

“ _ Oh please _ ,” Hermione cut in, rolling her eyes. “He was more vile than ever after that.” 

 

“He was. But it was always the same routine with him. He'd insult you, watch your reaction, feel bad about it and either let that out by getting angry or upset. I’d find him either silent and withdrawn somewhere, crying quietly in his bed, or smashing something up,” Blaise told her. 

 

“In private he would talk about you a lot Hermione. I know you don't believe me, but it's true. As for me… well, I couldn't believe you had the nerve to hit him, and I actually thought he deserved it to fair,” Blaise winked, causing her to blush. 

 

“Really?” She asked him for confirmation. 

 

“Yes, really. It made me see you in a different light. You could say that was my turning point,” Blaise admitted freely. Unlike Draco, he wasn't as embarrassed when talking about emotions. “You are so innocent, yet so fierce, and you're so strong Hermione, and I started to see that.”

 

“I don't feel strong right now.”

 

“You will  _ dolcezza _ . It'll come back. It's there under the surface. You just need time.” He told her confidently, using his hand to brush a stray curl from her face. “You are a true Gryffindor lioness.”

 

He looked at her closely and noticed how tired she looked. She needed to take better care of herself. Blaise had heard about the mind-doctors in the muggle world who helped you cope with any problems you were having. He wondered if there was anything like that in the wizarding world that may be able to help her. He'd have to speak to Draco about it. 

 

“So,” he said, turning her attention back to him. “It was the Yule Ball in fourth year that things really changed for me,” he admitted to her. 

 

Hermione's face flushed as she recalled the moment he had whispered in her ear from behind. He had left her feeling hot and worked up, especially when he had placed his lips below her ear, she’d forgotten how to breathe.

 

“So you remember then?” He asked with an evil smirk on his face, noticing the redness in her cheeks.

 

She looked at him with wide eyes and nodded so slightly he almost missed it. 

 

“Draco was pissed as hell when you walked in on Krums arm,” 

 

Hermione raised her eyebrows at him slightly disbelieving. 

 

“If it hadn't been for me, either Draco or Krum would probably have spent the night in the hospital wing. 

 

“What? Why? What happened?” She squeaked out in shock. 

 

“Well, Draco had still been trying to convince me that he didn't have feelings for you but he lost it when he saw you walk in with him. He was overcome with possessiveness and jealousy,” he watched Hermione gasp at this. “I held him back and told him to calm down; which he did for about a second before he pulled away and skulked about in the courtyard outside for a couple of hours.”

 

“Why didn't you go after him?” She inquired, not sure what to make of it. 

 

“Trust me, Hermione. When Draco is in that mood, it's best to leave him be for a while.” 

 

“Duly noted.” 

 

“I left him alone and stayed at the ball. I had never seen you look more beautiful,” he told her honestly, remembering the blue dress she had worn and the way her hair had been styled in an elegant updo, exposing her long neck. “When you danced with Krum, I thought you looked exquisite floating around the dance floor.” He heard her scoff at this. 

 

“Don't believe me? Ask any guy who was there what they thought of your transformation that night. It's all anyone could talk about in the days that followed. It's not our fault you didn't listen to school gossip and never heard the boys talking about you.” Blaise winked at her again and then watched the blush creep up her neck and spread across her face. 

 

“I do find that that hard to believe actually, even though Ron and Harry told me the same thing at the time. It seems everyone forgot about it when they realised the change wasn't permanent and I had gone back to boring Hermione straight after.” 

 

“Some say boring, I say interesting,” he shrugged his shoulder at her. “I definitely started to feel something more for you after that night. I'd decided to go and try to find Draco, and you were standing there all alone waiting for Krum to come back. I couldn't help myself. I wanted to see if you smelt as good as you looked,” he freely admitted, not looking the slightest bit uncomfortable at what he'd said. 

 

“And?” She whispered nervously; her heart was racing. 

 

“Vanilla and honey,” Blaise told her reaching forward and grabbing one of her curls between his fingers. He brought it to his nose and inhaled. “You use a honey shampoo on your hair and your skin, smells—and tastes,” he drawled out in a husky voice remembering placing his lips on her that night. “Like sweet vanilla,” Blaise finished, dropping the curl and watching it bounce back into place. 

 

Merlin, he had a way of talking that made her skin prickle and her stomach flutter.

 

Blaise sighed deeply before continuing. “I don't have much more to tell you Hermione. Myself and Draco never spoke of our feelings towards you until the end of fifth year and I'd rather you speak to Draco if you want to know anymore from then on. I wouldn't feel comfortable divulging certain parts without Draco present.” Blaise really needed his boyfriend next to him for the next part. They had to talk to her about sixth year and everything that followed after. It wouldn’t be easy, and Hermione and Draco especially needed to talk about it, or it would always be there, festering away like a disease. 

 

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows and thought about what he'd said for a few minutes. 

 

“What about now Blaise? What happens next?” She questioned him, still confused. She still didn't know where she stood. 

 

Blaise grabbed her small hand in his, his slender fingers wrapped around hers as he stared at her. 

 

“The truth is, Hermione. Myself and Draco are partners, best friends, lovers, whatever you want to call us. We both care deeply for you, and we would very much like to have you join us in this relationship. We're not saying you have to decide anything now—or ever. We wouldn't even have told you yet if Pansy hadn't of interfered. We were happy to remain friends and wear you down by having you walk in on us in compromising situations,” he smirked at her remembering her face when she had walked in on Draco sucking him off in the shower. That had been a good idea of his brilliant and gorgeous boyfriend to place a silencing charm, but leave the door unlocked, knowing Hermione would think the bathroom was empty. 

 

“Oh  _ ha ha _ , very funny,” she glared before she stuck her tongue out at him and then laughed. 

 

“So, you and Draco spoke about this in fifth year? Are you at least going to tell me what was said?” She asked pleadingly. He probably wouldn't say anything else without Draco here, but it was worth a shot. 

 

He winced slightly at her question. He wanted to tell her everything, but that wasn't fair to Draco. There were some things only he could explain. He told Hermione this, and she seemed to accept it.

 

“Now you know the truth, how do you feel?” He asked her apprehensively. 

 

“Quite honestly?” She asked looking at him with wide eyes. He nodded at her. 

 

“I'm not sure. I need to think about all of this. I—” she stopped herself from asking the one question she was dreading the answer to. 

 

“I, what Hermione?” He asked apprehensively. 

 

“What do you want from me?” she whispered. “What is it that you and Draco both want from me right now?”

 

“We just want to be your friends. That’s all we want. If you decide that you’d like to take this further, then we will discuss it, but for now, please just try to get to know us and spend some time with us.” he smiled softly at her. 

 

“Thank you, Blaise,” she whispered. “For being honest with me and looking after me tonight,” Hermione yawned and moved her hand from his to rub her eyes. 

 

“That's what friends do, right? They look out for each other?”

 

“That's right, and it's much appreciated, so thank you… again.”

 

Blaise rolled his eyes. “Stop thanking me, please?” He pleaded, smiling at her. 

 

“I will try and speak to Draco at some point tomorrow, Blaise,” she muttered sleepily. 

 

“There’s no pressure Hermione. I don’t want you to stress about this anymore, alright? Now go to sleep,” he ordered her while he ran his hand down her face and lightly grasped her chin in between his fingers. He leaned forward and gave her a quick peck on the cheek before releasing her and turning onto his back. He retook her hand in his and smiled as he heard Hermione sigh contentedly. After about fifteen minutes when Blaise had thought she had gone to sleep she spoke again. 

 

“Blaise?” She mumbled sleepily. 

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I like the Italian nicknames you call me.”

 

“Go to sleep Hermione,” he replied and squeezed her hand, secretly pleased to hear that, as she settled down. 

 

He decided he would stay for a while and make sure she didn't start having a nightmare before he went off to try and find Draco. He had a good idea where he had disappeared to. 

 

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

 

A/N -  _ Dolcezza _ meaning sweetness in Italian and  _ Cara _ for dear. Thanks to Dile for the lessons. I don’t trust Google Translate! 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	11. Draco Exposed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Everyone, here's another chapter for you all. It's time to hear from Draco x 
> 
> Alpha/Beta love to SaintDionysus and LaBelladonex
> 
> Let me know what you think.
> 
> Happy Reading   
> ~coyg_81

THIS LIFE

~•~•~•~•~

Chapter Eleven 

 

Draco Exposed

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

_ Recap: _

 

_ Harry ‘Fucking Saviour of the Fucking World, Bane of Draco's Fucking Existence’ Potter, stood before him grinning like a drunken twat. His hair was unmentionable and his glasses skewed across his face. Draco noticed the redness in his cheeks and the smell of alcohol emanating from him. He was pissed. Whilst the Slytherin was just beginning to feel the effect of the whiskey he had drunk on his way down to the pitch, the boy who refused to die was completely inebriated.  _

 

_ “Potter,” Draco drawled with his Malfoy sneer plastered across his aristocratic features.  _

 

_ “Malfoy,” Harry spat back.  _

 

_ “What are you doing here?” Draco asked, barging past him towards the entrance.  _

 

_ “Could ask you the same thing, Ferret. Aren't you supposed to be talking with your boyfriend and my best friend right now?” He slurred while lightly swaying where he stood.  _

 

_ “And what the fuck do you know about it?”  _

 

_ “More than you think, Malfoy,” Harry taunted,  following behind him.  _

 

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

 

Draco strode purposefully through the entrance to the Quidditch pitch and looked around in the dark. He began to make his way over to the Slytherin stands when a noise behind stopped him. 

 

“Malfooyyy.”

 

He rolled his eyes and clenched his teeth before turning to face the boy wonder. “What, Potter?” He hissed, angrily. All Draco had wanted was some peace and quiet. He'd already had to deal with Snape tonight and the ensuing guilt over not writing to his mother. Now Harry Potter was bugging the shit out of him. 

 

Harry hiccupped before attempting to straighten his glasses. “I think we need to talk, Malfoy. Don't you?” He replied in a tense tone whilst concentrating on not wobbling. 

 

“I couldn't think of anything worse,  _ Potter _ . Why would I want to sit down and talk with you?” Draco spat. 

 

“Firstly, just tell me if Hermione found you?” Harry sighed, rubbing his forehead as the beginning of a headache started to make an appearance. He’d left Hermione at her portrait and she’d been determined to speak to both Draco and Blaise. He watched Draco flinch, and Harry frowned even deeper, making his head hurt more. “From your reaction, I would say she found you both.”

 

“What's it to you?” Draco hissed defensively, he turned his back on Potter and made his way to the Slytherin side of the stadium. 

 

“Malfoy, for fuck's sake,” Harry despaired at the snarky Slytherin. He caught up and grabbed him by the elbow. 

 

Draco spun around and out of Harry's grip, his face contorted with rage. 

 

“Don't fucking touch me,” Draco warned the black haired wizard swaying in front of him. “You may think that just because you and Granger defended me at my trial that I owe you somehow, but you are very much mistaken. Now piss off,” Draco twitched toward his wand, he wanted  _ so much  _ to hex the Gryffindor idiot. 

 

“No, I won't piss off, Malfoy. I spoke to Hermione tonight and she told me what she talked to Parkinson about. I told her to confront you both. So what happened?” Harry demanded, following Draco once more when the snarky snob just glared at him without answering and stormed away again. 

 

Malfoy walked up the steps to his usual spot on the top row and stared out over the darkened pitch remembering all the times he had stood here, acting like he was the King of Slytherin or flying above the spot he was now in as Seeker. He’d been an arrogant little tosser back then, Draco admitted to himself. He saw Potter out of his peripheral, leaning against the same railing a few metres down and also staring around the quiet, dark stadium. 

 

Draco sighed before taking a deep drink from his bottle before placing it on the bench behind him and turning back around. 

 

“She found us,” he said, seeing Potter turn towards him. Draco carried on staring out in the same direction. If he was going to do this, he didn't want to see Potter’s face while he told him. 

 

“ _ And? _ ” Harry asked, with a slight impatience in his tone. He already knew what Hermione had told him. He just wanted to see if she'd stuck to her word and faced them or backed out. Since the end of the war, Hermione had pulled back from any confrontation. She had become extremely introverted, and would get lost inside her head a lot of the time. While Harry, Ron and the rest of the Weasleys seemed to be coping somewhat—except George—Hermione was declining. So for her to have confronted the snakes she lived with would mean she’d found her courage and Harry would be extremely pleased and proud of her.  

 

“ _ And... _ ” Draco mimicked Harry but with the distinct Malfoy sneer, “Pansy told her how Blaise and I both feel but, before I could hear her reject us both, I employed my usual MO and ran,” Draco admitted quietly and lowered his head to look at the stands and pitch below. There was no use fighting it. If he wanted to have Hermione in his life, then he needed Potter on side. As much as he loathed him and his ginger-headed sidekick, they were Hermione’s best friends and came as a package deal—unfortunately. Draco turned to look at Potter. He had a stupid grin on his face, and his glasses were still wonky. 

 

“Why are you grinning like that?” Draco asked him impatiently. 

 

“I’m just proud of her,” Harry answered honestly. “That would have taken a lot for her to do that and I’m glad she did… it’ll help,” he whispered at the end, too low for Malfoy to hear. Harry didn’t know how much Draco knew about Hermione’s somewhat fragile state at the moment and he didn’t want to be the one to tell him if she didn’t want him to know. He just hoped that Draco hadn't given her a hard time and that Blaise was with her now. 

 

As if he'd been in Harry's mind using Legilimency, Draco explained that he'd left Blaise with Hermione and she was perfectly safe with the soft-mannered Italian she shared her living space with. 

 

That put Harry's mind at rest a little, but he still wanted answers. 

 

“Sooo,” Harry drawled drunkenly, leaning back with his hands gripping the railing. “How—” He  began but his hands slipped and he fell arse backwards over the bench. 

 

Draco turned around to the sight of Harry ‘bloody’ Potter sprawled over the bench with his legs in the air and laughing hysterically. 

 

Great, just bloody great. Draco expressed his frustration by kicking Harry’s shin and ordering the prick to stop acting like a complete wanker and get the fuck up. Merlin, Draco couldn't stand the idiot laid flat on his back in front of him. He couldn't deal with him sober let alone drunk and dopey. 

 

He turned back towards the pitch, waiting for Potter to stop laughing, regain what little sense he had, and pull himself up. Harry plonked down on the bench and took deep lungfuls of air. His laughing fit had caused him to lose his breath. Once he calmed down, he tried to arrange his thoughts to ask the best possible questions. It wasn't going to be easy with this particular wizard. Harry remembered the muggle saying, _ ‘Like trying to get blood from a stone.’ _

 

“Ok Malfoy, I'm good. So explain to me how you and your boyfriend feel about my best friend. I want to know how you intend to act towards her, why you bullied her for years if all along it was true that you loved her. I mean, what the fuck Malfoy? Who treats someone they have feelings for the way you did? Because if that's how it's done, I'd hate to see how you treat someone you  _ don't  _ like. Oh… no… wait,” he mocked him. “We did, didn’t we? When you tormented the three of us all the fucking time.” Harry couldn't help it. Once he'd started, it seemed he couldn't stop. He didn't trust the wizard in front of him an inch and, if this were some devious plan between Draco, Blaise and Pansy to embarrass Hermione, he would probably find a way of killing all three of them with barely a backward glance. 

 

“Fucking hell, Potter,” Draco exclaimed. “Calm down for Merlin's sake. You'll give yourself a nosebleed thinking that quickly.” 

 

“Stop evading, Malfoy, and just tell me,” Harry urged the infuriating blond bastard. When he still hadn't spoken after a few minutes, Harry sighed and tried a different approach. “I know you don't trust me, Malfoy, but believe me when I say that Hermione is like a sister to me and I would do anything… and I mean,  _ anything _ to protect her. One of the things Hermione hates most is the publicity around us right now. She likes to protect her privacy and, at this moment,  _ I _ am the  _ only _ person in the world that she trusts one hundred percent, so whatever you say to me will only be discussed between myself, you and Hermione. Got me?” He asked. 

 

“What about the Weasel? Surely she's told him as well?”

 

“No, she hasn't actually,” Harry frowned.

 

“Why not?” Draco asked curiously. What was so special about Potter that she told him everything. 

 

“Myself and Hermione are like brother and sister, Malfoy. Neither one of us has ever indicated anything more than that — ever,” Harry stated matter of factly. “She feels more comfortable telling me things and confiding in me. Without the Weasleys as an adopted family, we would only have each other,” he looked directly at Draco. “Has she told you anything about the time we spent on the run?” 

 

Draco shook his head, “We haven't swapped war stories yet, Potter,” Draco spat sarcastically. Was this really the time for that type of conversation? He thought glumly. 

 

“Don't worry; it's nothing too traumatic,” Harry declared, rolling his eyes. “There was a time when things had become too much. We had been on the run for months. We were dirty, hungry, tired, and afraid. We had no idea what we were doing, and the pressure had finally gotten to all of us. Me and Ron got into a fight and Ron went to leave us,” Harry spoke quietly, the memories of that time replaying in his mind were not pleasant. “Before he left he asked Hermione what she was going to do—go with him or stay with me. Ron had got it into his head that something was going on between Hermione and me; she, in fact, fancied Ron at this point but she chose to stay with me anyway. She understood how important the mission to kill Snake Face was and it was bigger than some petty squabble. I'll never be able to repay her for that decision, Malfoy. She stuck with me from the very beginning, and I’d probably be dead now if it weren’t for her, so believe me when I say, I will never break her trust.” 

 

Hearing Potter’s declaration of devotion to Hermione calmed Draco somewhat; he felt a little better about the conversation with the specky-eyed Gryffindor.

 

“We also know Ron has a temper and despises you. If he knew you and Zabini liked her, it would cause untold problems,” Harry spoke again. 

 

“And say she agrees to be with us someday. He’ll have to find out then,” Draco replied smugly. 

 

“Well, we cross that bridge if and when we come to it.” They both raised their bottles of whiskey and clinked them together before they each drank some more. 

 

Draco was sure that Potter didn't need anymore but who was he to tell him to stop. He didn’t know, nor did he care, why he was so drunk and skulking about near the Quidditch pitch. 

 

“So Malfoy, you gonna answer my previous questions or what?” Harry asked again, staring up at Malfoy with his brows furrowed.  

 

Draco knew Potter wouldn't give up until he got something from him. “You really are an annoying prat. I don't know why Hermione keeps you around.”

 

“Insults? Really? Good one Malfoy. Still going to ask the same questions though,” Harry smiled slightly. He was as stubborn as they came and he wouldn't give up. Just like he hadn't earlier when he made Hermione confess what had been plaguing her. 

 

“Alright, alright,” Draco acquiesced with his hands held out in front of him. He huffed loudly and ran his hands through his hair before stepping over to the bench and sitting down next to Potter but putting a few feet of distance between them. 

 

Drink more whiskey. That's what Draco had to do. Then he wouldn't give a shit what he said. Well, not until the morning at least and he could deal with it then. He picked up the bottle from the space next to him—he'd drunk a quarter of it already.  _ Bottoms up, _ he thought, as he swigged from it. 

 

Draco leant forward and rested his forearms on his knees, the bottle dangling from one hand swinging back and forth. “Do you know what it was like having to grow up the way I did, Potter?”

 

Harry rolled his eyes behind Draco's back and faked a yawn. “What? In a huge mansion with your every whim catered for? Yeah, It must have been awful,” he remarked, sarcastically. 

 

“Don't presume things you know nothing about!” Draco spat back, casting a venomous look at Harry and breathing deeply trying to control his temper. “That's the thing with you Gryffindors,” he sneered. “You think you know all the answers and you're never wrong, are you?” 

 

“Calm down, Malfoy. I was only joking,” Harry lied. He wasn't joking but seeing Malfoy's reaction had worried him a small bit. Harry clearly didn't know anything about Draco’s life. “I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean it,” 

 

“It's fine. Everybody thinks it's like that but, let me tell you, growing up in that manor with my father was far from easy.” He declared, anger still evident in his voice. 

 

He proceeded to tell Harry a few bits about life with Lucius, how he was punished if he didn't treat Hermione or any Muggle-born the way he had been taught. He told him about the first time he'd seen Hermione and how he still felt about her now.  He never mentioned what happened during the war. Nor did he include himself and Blaise.

 

Harry was still laughing from hearing about Draco almost causing a scene at the Yule Ball—he would've paid good galleons to see Krum punch Draco—because that's what would've happened if Blaise hadn't held him back. 

 

“So you're telling me that you've been interested in Hermione since day one and that everything that's happened between then and now has all been an act?” Harry asked incredulously, once he'd stopped laughing. 

 

“I wouldn't say it was all an act, no. There was a time in second year I thought I'd gotten over her. It was just before the first time I called her a mu… well, you know?” Draco waved his hand dismissively in front of him. 

 

“A mudblood?” Harry spat. “Yeah, I remember.”

 

“Yes… well… that,” Draco said, shifting his weight. He felt more than uncomfortable sharing this with Potter. Besides, Malfoys didn't share their emotions, so this was even harder. “My father had locked me in the dungeons for three days with no food and no light after he caught me telling Blaise how brilliant I thought Hermione was—even though I knew she was Muggleborn and sorted into the wrong house.” 

 

“WHAT?”

“I'm not making this up, Potter,” Draco remarked. 

 

“Never said you were, but I just find it so unbelievable. No one would've thought that your father treated you like that.” Harry exclaimed. Everyone else—himself included - had seen pompous little Malfoy ‘threatening to tell his father’ every time someone said or did something he didn't like. 

 

“Yes, well, my father showed the public face well. We are Malfoys after all. No one could know what was really going on behind closed doors. We're wizarding elite, and that had to show on the outside.”

 

Harry rolled his eyes again at the term Malfoy had used.  _ ‘Wizarding elite, my arse.’  _ He thought snidely. 

 

“So, you were punished for the things you said about Hermione?”

 

Draco nodded. 

 

“So, second year you must have resented her slightly,” Harry surmised. 

 

Draco looked at him in shock that he had gotten it straight away. He didn't think Harry Potter was that perceptive. 

 

“I did,” Draco admitted, solemnly. “It felt good to call her what I did and see her cry in front of everyone. I thought I'd finally got my revenge for the punishment I'd been dealt because of her. It was stupid reasoning,” Draco sighed. “But, fuck, I was only twelve. Do you want to know what I did that night? The same night after I'd called her that?” He turned his head back towards Potter again and saw the wizard slowly shake his head at him. 

 

“I laid on my bed, proud of myself for upsetting her and embarrassing her in front of everyone. I was twirling my wand in my hand and picturing her face. Next minute I was crying. Her face in my mind was crying, and it started me off. I realised what I'd done, and I was devastated I’d done that to her. That's when I knew,” Draco confessed, a sad look passed across his face remembering it all again. 

 

“Knew what?” Harry asked quietly. He felt dizzy with all this new knowledge about Malfoy. Well, that and the alcohol. Leaning back against the bench behind him, without falling down the gap this time, he took some deep breaths. It had got colder the longer they'd been out here but, right now, Harry was glad of the frigid air. 

 

“Knew without a doubt that I felt  _ something _ for Hermione Granger,” Draco confirmed, the conviction of his statement battering against Harry like a storm. 

 

And there it was; the truth at last. Harry had heard it for himself now and he didn't know what to make of it. He knew he needed to sober up, and quickly if he wanted to remember any of this tomorrow. 

 

Sensing his discomfort, Draco decided to offer an olive branch. “Look, Potter, cards on the table, yeah? The fact is, I like Granger—a lot. Yes, I'm in a relationship with Blaise but he feels the same way about her. I suppose all I want is the chance for her to get to know the real me and not the prick she's had to put up with for the last seven years.” He didn’t feel good admitting all that to his arch nemesis but Draco had already made the decision to confide in Potter. As Hermione’s best friend Harry had a lot of influence with her and was probably their best bet to get him in Granger’s good graces.

 

“Shit, Malfoy. I never thought I’d see the day that you of all people would show interest in a Muggle-born. Just goes to show you never really know a person.” Harry stood from the bench and stretched his arms over his head, wobbling slightly as he suffered a head rush. 

 

“You seem to be taking this better than I thought,” Draco told him, standing as well, uncomfortable with having Saint Potter leaning over him. 

 

“Yeah, well, I know Hermione enough to be sure she’ll make the best decision for her and whatever that is you’ll have to accept it. Hermione is the kind of person who will gather all the facts, think about it to death, make a decision and not back down from that. Once she’s decided, that’s it,” Harry told him, so there was no mistake about how this was going to go. 

 

“I know how she works Potter,” Draco declared, knowing full well that if Hermione decided she didn’t want anything to do with them, that would be that. 

 

“So why did you run tonight, Malfoy, and leave Zabini to clear up your mess?”

 

Draco sighed. “I didn’t know how I’d react if she told Blaise and me to bugger off, so I took myself out of the situation. Blaise is better at things like that than I am,” he explained.

 

“And what do you think  Zabini is telling her?”

 

“Probably what we both discussed and agreed to a few days ago.”

 

“Which was?”

 

“Fuck’s sake, Potter. What is this? Twenty sodding questions?” Draco asked, irritably. He was getting fed up with the interrogation. 

 

“I told you I wanted answers,” Harry replied, not backing down from him. 

 

“Fine,” Draco declared exasperatedly. He was slowing losing the will to live. He’d rather go back and face whatever had happened in his room than stay out here with this insufferable prick. 

 

Draco began making his way back down the steps with Potter following behind. 

 

“It’s cold. I’m going to bed. You want more answers?” he looked at Harry with a raised eyebrow. “You have until I reach my portrait and then question time is finished,” Draco declared, walking away. 

 

Oh, there was plenty Harry still wanted to know. He turned and drunkenly stumbled after Draco. 

 

“What do you two want with my friend? Don’t you think she’s been through enough already?” Harry almost shouted to Draco’s retreating back. 

 

Draco rolled his eyes and huffed before turning to face him. 

 

“We don’t want anything untoward. I just want her to give me a chance to show I’m not the person she thought she knew. As for Blaise and me, well, yes, we would like her as a part of our relationship. We are not forcing her to choose or make any kind of decision right now. We know she’s been struggling,” Draco tacked on at the end. 

 

“Of course you know she’s been struggling Malfoy… you prick, or did you forget that you made her pass out last week just from seeing you?” Harry  _ did _ shout at him this time. Merlin, he wanted to punch this arrogant twat. 

 

“No, I didn’t forget,” Draco replied, through gritted teeth. 

 

“I don't think you understand; it’s more than that. The war has broken her, Malfoy. She needs to be put back together. I just think—“

 

“I know, Potter,” Draco whispered, with his head down. “Hermione’s not the only one this war has broken,” he added, solemnly. 

 

“That’s not the only issue here, Malfoy,” Harry said, slightly shocked at Draco’s admission. “I mean? Really? Do you think she’d be happy to share you and Zabini? Do you even know what you’re asking, Malfoy? A polyamorous relationship is bad enough. Wait until everyone finds out that one-third of the Golden Trio, war heroine and Gryffindor Princess, Hermione Granger, has shacked up with Slytherin ex-Death Eater Draco Malfoy and his Slytherin boyfriend, Blaise Zabini? You think she’s struggling now? You just take into consideration what you’re truly asking her. The papers will make it look as sleazy as possible; people will turn on her. Do you honestly want that for her?” Potter asked him hotly. He felt his temper rising at the arrogance of this pompous prick standing in front of him and his defensiveness towards Hermione grew stronger. He wouldn’t let these Slytherin arseholes hurt her.

 

“Of course not,” Draco spat angrily. 

 

“Then after tonight, Malfoy, I suggest you back off and leave her alone. She would have gotten enough answers from Zabini to have a real think about everything. If I hear you've been pressuring her or upsetting her, I’ll fucking kill you.” Harry clenched his fists as he spoke.

 

Ignoring the death threat completely, Draco answered him, “I’m not fucking stupid, Potter. You think I’ve waited this long for a chance with her to go and fuck it all up now?” He turned, walking through the entrance doors to the castle and towards the stairs.

 

Once they’d walked up two flights uninterrupted, they had to wait for the third set to move around to them. Draco turned to face the so-called Saviour of the Wizarding World. 

 

“I meant everything I said out there, even if I am drunk. I’d do anything for Hermione, Potter. Now she knows, we plan to back off completely and let her come to us if that’s what she wants. Now, will you please stop harassing me?” He asked exasperatedly, almost whining at still having to put up with him. The last hour or so had been enough already. 

 

Draco prayed thanks to Merlin when the rest of the stairs cooperated, eventually. Stepping off at the sixth floor, he quickly made his way in the opposite direction to of the Gryffindor Pain-in-the-Arse.

 

“Malfoy,” Harry called down the corridor. 

 

“What?” Draco shouted back, not turning around and continuing forward. 

 

“Remember what I said, her decision is final, don’t push her and  _ don’t _ fucking hurt her,” he snarled at him. 

 

“I heard you earlier, idiot,” Draco shouted again before disappearing around the corner.

 

Harry sighed and stumbled off towards Gryffindor tower. He felt kind of sorry for Malfoy. He and Blaise certainly had their work cut out for them in trying to secure Hermione’s affections. 

 

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

 

Draco quickly told Snape to bugger off and walked through the opening into the common room. He surveyed the scene in front of him. The fire was barely aglow, just the burning embers still lit, which meant no one had been out here for a while; the room was empty. 

 

Draco started to feel a dip in his stomach as he took in the now empty bottle of Firewhiskey left on the table and one glass with some liquid still in it. 

 

There were no clothes strewn about the room, so that was a good sign. He exhaled slowly at this realisation. Thinking that Blaise and Hermione had talked and then gone to their separate rooms, Draco headed toward his and his boyfriend's door. 

 

Draco was slightly more worried when he found the bedroom empty. There was only one other place Blaise could be, and he didn’t want to think about what he might see if he went into Hermione’s room. They had obviously drunk a lot, and he’d bet emotions had been running high, but there was no way Blaise would do that to him. He trusted his lover one hundred percent. He made his way across the bedroom and through the adjoining bathroom to Hermione’s door. 

 

Draco didn’t want to see his worst nightmare come to life. He swallowed and felt his stomach plunge as he reached for the door handle.

 

The sight before him caught his breath; Draco stepped into the room, instantly drawn to the sight of a sleeping Hermione with Blaise right beside her.

 

His boyfriend was lying on his back, fully clothed on top of the duvet. Hermione was tucked under the covers and curled into Blaise’s side. Her head rested in the crook of his shoulder with her hands underneath the cheek pressed into him. He had one arm around her and the other lying by his side, his cheek resting against the top of her head. 

 

Draco smiled at the scene. Merlin forbid anyone ever heard him say it out loud, but they looked cute cuddled up together like that. He wanted nothing more than to climb onto that bed and curl up on Hermione’s other side and wrap himself around her. He knew he’d never let go of her if he did that. What had happened for them to be in this situation?

 

As if sensing his presence, Blaise opened his eyes and rubbed the bleariness away with his free hand. His gaze settled on the towering form of his boyfriend. 

 

“Draco,” Blaise said quietly, aware of the sleeping witch pressed into his side. She must have moved in the night because that was not how they had fallen asleep. 

 

“Blaise,” Draco whispered back, not wanting to disturb Hermione either. She looked so peaceful; like all of her worries had left her, just for a few hours of uninterrupted and much-needed sleep. 

 

“What time is it?” Blaise asked him. 

 

“It’s around three,” Draco answered nonchalantly, still staring at Hermione’s sleeping form. 

 

“Merlin, I didn’t realise it was so late. I must've nodded off,” the Italian exclaimed quietly, shocked at how long he’d been there. It must have been about eleven when Hermione had come home this evening, and they’d spoken for about an hour before he’d brought her in here following her panic attack.

 

“We need to talk,” Draco told him. 

 

“Yes, we do. Not here though; in our room,” Blaise answered, slowly detangling himself from Hermione. He placed her head down on the pillow and moved off the side of the bed. 

 

Hermione moaned at the movement, and both wizards froze when she muttered “Draco” in her sleep. 

 

Blaise looked over at Draco who was standing there with his mouth wide open in shock at what he’d heard. He turned his head toward Blaise, a smile slowly creeping across the corners of his mouth. 

 

“Tell me you heard that?” Draco whisper shouted at him. 

 

“Yes, I heard, we’ve got a lot to talk about so come on. Next door. Now,” he ordered, walking over to Draco and guiding him out by his shoulder. 

 

“Let’s leave her to sleep; she needs it.” He said sadly, remembering how distraught she’d been earlier. 

 

Blaise made sure both bathroom doors were left open and cast a Muffliato once he’d entered his room. She wouldn’t hear them talking, but they’d hear her if she started having a nightmare. 

 

Both wizards striped off their clothing, except their boxer shorts, and left them in neat piles on the armchair. Draco lit a fire, placed his wand on the bed side table, and joined Blaise in bed. 

 

They turned to face each other. 

 

“Ok, Blaise,” Draco said. “Let’s talk.”

 

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

 

A/N - Big lemon warning in the next chapter for our sexy Slytherin boys! 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	12. La Mia Vita

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies. Tried to get this chapter out as quickly as possible. It took me ages to write and my Betas/Alphas did an amazing job, so much love and thanks to SaintDionysus and LaBelladone x
> 
> Also, massive thanks to Dile for the Italian lessons! M’wah x 
> 
> Warning: Big old Draco/Blaise Lemon! 
> 
> As always, you can catch me over on tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/coyg-81
> 
>  
> 
> Happy Reading  
> ~ coyg_81

THIS LIFE

~•~•~•~•~

 

Chapter Twelve

 

La Mia Vita

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


Hermione awoke with a start; her head was pounding, her mouth felt like a desert and for some reason she felt unsettled within herself. She sat up and rubbed her temples in the hope of reliving the throbbing behind her eyes. The events of the previous night flooded her mind, and she groaned loudly.

 

Moving slowly, she got up and headed for the shower; thoughts of her talk with Blaise plaguing her. They’d fallen asleep together last night, but he wasn’t here now. She wondered whether Draco had made it back or not. He’d been upset so maybe Blaise was with him. She grabbed a towel and headed into the bathroom. 

 

Once Hermione was showered and dressed she decided she was in need of a Sober Up potion. The smell of freshly brewed coffee assaulted her senses as she stepped from her room.

 

Draco was bent over the large study table scratching away at a piece of parchment. He raised his head in Hermione’s direction at the sound of her door opening. 

 

He grinned at the state she was in: bloodshot eyes, unexplainable hair, a scowl across her face. 

 

“Morning, sunshine.” 

 

“Urgh… be quiet, Malfoy, not so loud,” she grumbled as she made her way over to the kitchen, rubbing her forehead.  

 

Draco stood and pulled out the chair next to him. “Here, take a seat, and I’ll fetch you a coffee and a Sober Up.”

 

“My hero,” Hermione replied, as sarcastically as possible. She took the proffered seat and flopped ungracefully onto it. 

 

“So you’re not a morning person then, Granger?”

 

“Well, usually I am, just not when I’ve been drinking Firewhiskey and had little sleep. Glad I don’t have classes until this afternoon,” she explained through a yawn.

 

“If you don’t have classes until later, why are you dressed and ready to go at seven in the morning?” He shouted out to her. 

 

“Promised to meet Harry and Ron for breakfast.”

 

Draco rolled his eyes  whilst walking back towards the sleepy witch; he smiled at how cute she looked rubbing her eyes and moving that mop of hair out of her face.

 

“Here,” he offered, setting a steaming mug in front of her with a potion bottle before retaking  his seat .

 

Looking over at him, she smiled before uncorking the potion and drinking it down in one.

 

“Yuck,” she exclaimed, shuddering at the taste. “I know it works well, but it tastes really horrible.”

 

“Yes, it does,” Draco agreed, laughing at her distress.

 

He watched her sip at the coffee he’d made, clearly trying to get the taste of potion out of her mouth. “This is… nice,” she declared, surprise evident across her face.

 

“Don't look so shocked, Granger. You don’t date an Italian for years without learning how to make good coffee, besides, Blaise is definitely not a morning person; he needs the caffeine or he’s like a Hippogriff with a sore head.”

 

“Really?” she asked, smirking. “Is he awake yet?”

 

“No. We didn’t get to sleep until late so I thought I’d leave him be. There’s a rule to this, Granger, never wake a sleeping Blaise.” He teased. 

 

“Ha! Like you never wake a sleeping baby?”

 

“Something like that,” he answered, slightly confused. He’d never heard that expression before but agreed with her anyway. 

 

“Are you saying Blaise acts like a baby?”

 

“He certainly does if someone wakes him up without coffee. Want to test the theory?” Draco asked, smirking at her. 

 

“Actually... yes, I do ,” she smiled. Standing up, her stomach already calmer after drinking the hangover cure, she walked to the kitchen to make Blaise a coffee.  Once she had the hot mug in her hands, and crossed to the boy's bedroom, she peeked her head around the door. 

 

Draco chuckled from just behind her. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he goaded, reaching around Hermione and holding the door open for her. 

 

Huffing, but ignoring his remark, Hermione made her way over to the sleeping Slytherin. She swallowed at the sight of him; the duvet only covered his body from the hips down. He had one arm over his head and the other lying across his stomach. He was striking to look at; all the Quidditch had paid off as she gazed at the hard planes of muscle that formed his abs. His skin looked so smooth she wanted to run her hands all over him to see if he felt as good as he looked. 

 

Hermione couldn’t believe the salacious thoughts running through her mind. 

 

She’d seen him before, in the shower...all of him. That thought made her blush as she remembered what else had been going on. She placed his coffee down on the bedside table and moved to the edge of the bed. 

 

“Blaise,” she called softly. 

 

“Mmm.”  A grumbled response. 

 

“Blaise, wake up, I have coffee,” she tried,  poking him in the shoulder.

 

He reached up and tried to swat her away. “ _ Leemelone _ , Draco,” Blaise mumbled, turning his back to her, burrowing further under the duvet he’d pulled around him. 

 

“It’s not me, prick, it’s Hermione. You know, bushy-haired Gryffindor bookworm?” Draco laughed at his boyfriend. He was used to this routine. Watching Hermione try and handle it was amusing. 

 

“Urgh… Gryffindors… only Hermione.” Blaise mumbled into the pillow. 

 

Hermione and Draco both laughed out loud at his response before she sat down on the bed and reached out to him.  The bushy-haired Gryffindor bookworm  grabbed him by the shoulder and gave it a firm shake, noticing the soft feel of his warm, chocolate coloured skin under her fingers. “Lucky for you, I’m the only Gryffindor here, so get up and drink this coffee I made.” She demanded of the wizard who was slowly turning and sitting up. 

 

“Bloody hell woman! If this is what I’ve got to look forward to then, maybe I changed my mind about everything I said last night,” Blaise huffed, rubbing his knuckles into his eyes and yawning loudly, before turning to wink knowingly at her. 

 

Hermione blushed and moved her hand from his shoulder, which Blaise caught in mid-air and brought to his lips, placing a soft kiss on the back of it. He looked up at her as he did. 

 

“Good morning,  _ Dolcezza _ .”

 

Hermione forgot how to breathe  whilst  looking into his warm brown eyes and hearing his slight Italian accent, husky with sleep. God, this man was sexy, caring, compassionate, and not at all how Hermione thought he would be. He was making her feel things. She knew that fluttering in her belly was the same feeling she’d had when Viktor had taken her to the Yule Ball; it was excitement, nerves, and maybe, the beginnings of a crush; as ridiculous as that word sounded to her. 

 

How could she not? The wizard before her was gorgeous. Hermione turned to get his coffee. 

 

Draco stayed silent during this exchange before joining them on the bed. He smiled at his partner. “Well, this is nice, isn’t it?” He asked nonchalantly.  “Very domesticated.” He added, smirking at Blaise over Hermione’s shoulder. 

 

Blaise shot him a _ ‘don’t push it’ _ warning look before sipping his drink. 

 

“Don’t get used to it. I just wanted to see what you were whining about when you said he was a nightmare to wake. That was easy. You should try and wake Ron up one morning.”

 

Both wizards groaned at the same time. “Hermione,  _ sweetheart _ ,” Draco drawled sarcastically. “Please don’t mention the Weasel at this time of the morning. I don’t think our stomachs could handle it.”

 

Smacking him lightly on the arm, she scolded him. “Don’t be horrible, Draco. I was just saying, that’s all. You whine about nothing! Blaise was easy to wake, I haven’t even had to remove my wand,” she declared, proudly. 

 

They both raised their eyebrows,Blaise laughing at the image of her hexing her friends awake. 

 

“To be fair to the moaning prat behind you, I’m not the easiest person to be around in the morning but, if it’s you waking me from now on, I’m sure I’ll be more… cooperative,” Blaise smirked.

 

“Honestly, you two are terrible.” She smiled to let him know she was joking and he grinned back at her. 

 

“So, how are you feeling this morning?” He asked her sincerely. He’d been so worried about her last night. 

 

“Oh, I’m fine,” she sighed, “Draco got me a Sober Up and coffee. I’ll be ok.” 

 

“Don’t give us that bull, Granger. Blaise wasn’t asking about your hangover and you know it,”  Draco leaned closer to her.

 

She whipped her head around to face him, an arctic glare spread across her face. 

 

“What do you know about it, Malfoy?” She asked defensively. 

 

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Princess. Don’t you think Blaise and I spoke last night — or this morning actually — about your little episode and what was said?”  He pointed out, not the least bit intimidated by the look she was giving him. He watched her features soften a little and her shoulders sag. 

 

“Look… all I know is…” she began to say, turning her head to look down at the floor. 

 

“Hermione, look at us,” Blaise said quietly, reaching out to place a hand on her waist. She turned her head to look at him, then Draco. 

 

“You can talk to us, Hermione. No pressure,” the blond told her softly. 

 

“Okay, well… a lot was said last night, and I need time to think,” Hermione answered, nodding her head as if agreeing with herself. “I know you aren’t going to pressure me, but I think I’d still like for us to get along and be friends. The atmosphere has been weird around here the last few days, and I want things to go back to how they were before I found any of this out,” she said, waving a hand between Blaise and Draco. 

 

Draco was just about to respond but Blaise spoke first.

 

“That’s fine, Hermione, whatever you want. We’re just glad you’re speaking to us again,” he smiled at her. Watching her smile back, seeing her eyes light up was something Blaise knew he’d never grow tired of. 

 

Hermione turned to look at Draco who nodded his head at her. “Whatever you want, Granger.”

 

“Good,” she breathed out. Feeling her shoulders relax slightly, having said what she wanted.  “If you hurry up and get dressed, Blaise, you can both escort me to breakfast.” 

 

“Bossy little thing, aren’t you?” Draco called, as she got up and made her way to the door. “Can you give us five minutes, Granger, and we’ll be right out?” 

 

“Sure,” she answered, rolling her eyes. “Five minutes, then I’m coming in.”

 

“You can come-” 

 

Draco Malfoy was  _ not _ finishing that sentence so Blaise threw a book from his bedside table right at him, just as Hermione closed the door behind her.

 

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

 

“Do you  _ have _ to try and antagonise her like that, Draco?” Blaise asked his boyfriend, who had  tossed the book aside and was now crawling across the bed  towards him like a predator stalking prey, his blond hair falling into his stormy eyes  that were  burning with a ferocity Blaise hadn’t seen for a while. He gulped as Draco  crept  nearer. 

 

“Do me a favour?” Draco asked, removing the coffee cup from his partner's hand and leaning so far over he pushed Blaise down onto the mattress while he placed the cup on the nightstand. 

 

“Wh… what?” Blaise answered, clearing his throat, his cock twitching as Draco lay across him;  he knew that look, the one that said ;  _ I’m going to fuck you into the headboard.  _

 

Draco moved so he was lying the length of Blaise’s hard body, pressing him into the mattress. 

 

“Shut up and kiss me,” Draco answered, his eyes meeting the dark brown ones of his lover. 

 

“What about Grang—” Blaise started before Draco crashed his mouth down on Blaise’s supple lips. The kiss was aggressive, their lips moving hard against each other. Draco nipped and sucked on Blaise’s bottom lip demanding entry, their tongues fighting against each other. 

 

Blaise moved his hands until his fingers were tangling in Draco’s fine blond hair at the nape of his neck. He pulled softly on the strands, eliciting a groan from Draco. The sound went straight to Blaise’s cock, and he tried to move under him to gain some friction. 

 

“Fuck, Blaise,” Draco breathed out heavily, dragging his lips away from his boyfriend’s. “Stop moving, or I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t see straight!” 

 

“Isn’t that what you want?” Blaise asked, moving under him again and licking a line up the side of Draco’s neck, watching as he shivered above him.  

 

“Unghhh, stop it, seriously,” he tried again, a bit more forcefully. 

 

“Why should I?” Blaise teased him. “Maybe I’d like nothing better right now than to be fucked by you.”

 

“Merlin, Blaise, what you do to me,” Draco moaned. “The things you make me feel.”

 

Blaise pulled Draco’s head back down and attacked his mouth once more, their tongues swirling together. 

 

Draco ground his rock hard length into Blaise’s stomach while moving his lips across his jaw and down the side of his neck, biting softly into his skin and laving over it with his tongue. 

 

Blaise squirmed beneath him. He loved Draco’s tongue doing wicked things to him but, even though he’d started it, he realised this wasn’t the time for fucking. 

 

“Draco,” he called, pushing at the blond's shoulders. 

 

“Mmm.” Came the muffled reply as Draco continued his attack on Blaise’s neck. 

 

“We need to… OH MOTHER OF MERLIN,” Blaise shouted out as Draco nibbled Blaise’s earlobe, knowing it would send him crazy. 

 

Draco loved to test it every time and blew cool air across Blaise’s ear before licking just underneath and nibbling again on his soft lobe. 

 

“Oh… Jesus… fuck!”

 

Draco raised his head and smirked down at his lover. “I know I’m doing something right when you start calling out for the  Muggle gods.”

 

“Such a prick,” Blaise replied, pushing at Draco's chest until he’d managed to flip him over to the other side of the bed. 

 

“Hey,” Draco cried, sitting up and looking down at Blaise, pouting his mouth. 

 

“As much as I’d like to continue this, I don't think it’s a good idea right now. Hermione’s just out there, and we don’t want to give her more reasons to run.” Blaise told him breathlessly. 

 

“No… you’re right… I suppose,” Draco acquiesced, sighing and running his hands through his blond hair. “No more setting up intentional walk-ins on her. No pushing.”

 

“Agreed,” Blaise whispered, getting out of bed so he could dress. He noticed the look in Draco's eye and sighed to himself. 

 

“Potter’s wrong you know,” Blaise said, buttoning up his shirt and reaching for his tie. “She’s not broken. The Hermione we know and adore is still in there. I told her that last night,”  he continued, moving to the mirror and checking that everything looked good for the day.  _ I’m vain, so what? _

 

“I know… it’s just… I feel so guilty all the bloody time. Watching her the past couple of weeks, it’s been… eye-opening. For fuck's sake, Blaise, she flinches when a door bangs too loudly. That’s not normal. Do you know how many times a day she reaches for her wand? A lot, some days I’ve lost count. I think it’s just a subconscious reaction now; she doesn’t even know she’s doing it half the time, and it’s my fault. I should've done more to protect her when she and the morons were brought to the Manor.”

 

“No, Draco… no. It isn’t your fault, alright? You couldn’t have done any more than you did that day, without her  _ and you _ both ending up dead. Let’s not go through this again, love, please?” Blaise pleaded with his distressed partner, he didn’t want a repeat of what had happened in the early part of the summer.  Just after the war, as they waited for Draco's trial date, his lover fell into a black hole of depression . He refused to see anyone except Blaise, not even Narcissa was allowed into the bedroom he had barricaded himself in. It was only with Blaise’s support and love that he’d managed to get through those dark days.

 

“I just—“

 

“No, I said. We are  _ not _ going there again. I think the final hurdle will finally be talking to Hermione about this, and that isn’t going to happen anytime soon, so you’re just going to have to keep it together for a while longer, alright?” He  wrapped his arms  around Draco's waist, breathing in his scent as he pulled him close. 

 

“I want you to heal so much, Draco. You know I’d do  _ anything _ for you not to have to carry around the demons you do, but she needs time — she’s not ready —  and you can’t have that discussion with her now.”

 

“I know, really Blaise, I do. It’s just… I can’t see how we’re going to move forward when we are both holding so much back,” Draco sighed, leaning down and kissing him gently on the lips. 

 

“It’ll come naturally. One day you’ll just be talking, someone will mention something, and the conversation will begin from there. Just stop thinking for awhile, yes?” Draco nodded his acceptance and closed his eyes at Blaise’s words, pressing their foreheads together. 

 

“Let’s look forward to spending some time with her in a normal setting. Just relax and enjoy,” Blaise whispered. 

 

Draco sighed before opening his eyes and, with a determined look, told Blaise they needed to escort their witch to breakfast. 

 

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

 

As they neared the Great Hall, all three stopped abruptly when someone called for Draco from behind them. Turning at the same time, the trio faced Harry Potter who looked like death warmed up. 

 

“Err… hello,” Harry mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. 

 

“Good morning, Harry,” Hermione said brightly. “Why do you look so ill?”

 

“Oh… erm… morning Mio… I mean, Hermione,” he said apologetically, almost calling her the nickname Ron used ; the one she hated. 

 

She huffed and crossed her arms. “Harry—“

 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s just hard when Ron calls you it all the time,” Harry  interrupted her, not wanting a lecture from his best friend when he was suffering the effects of the alcohol from the night before. 

 

“Well, I really wish he wouldn’t. I hate it, Harry.” 

 

“I—”

 

“As lovely as this little interlude is, can we carry on to breakfast, Potter, or is there something you wanted?” Draco snarled. He couldn’t deal with Potter  \- not after last night and his  opening up a little to the bespectacled twat in front of him. 

 

“I need to speak to you for a minute, Malfoy.”

 

“Well, don’t let us stop you,” Blaise laughed, grabbing Hermione’s arm and walking the pair of them off through the Great Hall doors with Draco glaring at their treacherous, retreating backs. 

 

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

 

“I wonder what that was all about,” Hermione said, slightly concerned as to why Harry would need to talk to Draco. 

 

“They ran into each other last night at the Quidditch pitch. Draco said Potter was already drunk when he bumped into him,” Blaise explained, walking over to the Slytherin table without her even realising. 

 

Taking her arm from his and helping her over the bench to sit, he sniggered at how lost in thought the witch was that she didn’t notice Pansy giggling next to her. It was only when the raven-haired girl clicked her fingers in front of Hermione’s face that she snapped back to her surroundings and noticed for the first time where she was. 

 

“Pa… Pansy?” Hermione stuttered, looking across the table at Blaise who was just sitting. 

 

“No, I’m Blaise, not Pansy,” he teased, pouring her some pumpkin juice. 

 

“Sorry, no, I mean… erm,” she felt her cheeks heat up, embarrassed at sounding like an idiot. She huffed loudly and shook her head. “What I meant to say was,” she began more articulately, “hello, Pansy. Nice to see you.” She smiled at the girl next to her. 

 

Hermione leaned across the table and asked Blaise why she was sitting with the Slytherins. 

 

“You weren’t paying attention and, now you’re speaking to us again, I thought we’d try McGonagall's house unity idea and have the Heads sit together. I would have sat at your table but I’d probably end up strangling the she-weasel, to be honest,” he answered truthfully, catching Hermione by surprise.  

 

“You’ve got a point, I suppose. Ron will be furious—“

 

“Speaking of,” Blaise interrupted her, nodding in the direction behind Hermione’s shoulder. 

 

She turned her head to see Ron Weasley bearing down on their table, his face an angry red colour. Rolling her eyes, she turned to Blaise. “You want to be my friend?” She asked him, smirking and raising an eyebrow. “You better get used to this then.”

 

“Hermione,” Ron spat from just behind her. 

 

“Ronald, good morning. How are you?” She asked her friend calmly, knowing it wouldn’t work when he was this riled up. 

 

“Don’t give me that,” the furious red-head snarled. “What are you doing sitting here?”

 

“I’m having breakfast Ronald, what does it look like?” Spreading butter on the toast she had on her plate, she didn’t turn her head or acknowledge his presence any other way. 

 

“But-but why are you here? Sitting with these _ snakes _ ?”

 

“You may have forgotten Ron, but the Headmistress wants us to engage with students from other houses and, seeing as Blaise is the Head Boy, we thought we’d start by me being here. Let’s face it,” she said aggressively, finally turning to look up at him. “I’m more welcome over here than Blaise would be over there.” She looked around his hulking frame to find Ginny glaring at her. 

 

Hermione stood to face her friend, not enjoying being looked down upon and berated for where she sat. Blaise rose with her, his hand twitching by his wand holster. 

 

“Look, Ron,” she sighed, frustrated. “We have to lead by example. No more of this prejudice over houses, especially for myself and Blaise. As the Heads, we have more responsibility than you. Why don’t you just sit down with  _ us _ and have some breakfast?”

 

“No, thank you,” he declared hotly. “If you’re sitting here, I’m off to find Harry.” Turning from her, he stomped away. 

 

“That went well,” she sighed, sitting back down. 

 

“Don’t worry about it. He’ll come around,” Pansy said, placing a comforting hand on top of Hermione’s for a second. 

 

“Thanks, Pansy.”

 

“Don’t mention it,” she smiled. 

 

No one else spoke for a while, all sitting in comfortable silence eating their food and sipping their drinks. 

 

Draco walked through the door with a worried frown on his face.  Blaise caught his eye as Draco shook his head slightly , indicating they’d talk about it later. The blond wizard took a seat next to his boyfriend and thanked him as Blaise poured him a glass of juice. 

 

“Granger, what are you doing sitting in the snake pit?” He asked, noticing the out of place looking witch opposite him. 

 

“House Unity,” she  offered  by way of explanation. 

 

“Right,” he said sarcastically, plating himself up some eggs. 

 

“What did Harry want?” 

 

“Nothing for you to worry about,” he winked at her. 

 

“Really?”

 

“Yes, really, Granger. It was just Quidditch nonsense,” he lied. 

 

Hermione frowned, not buying his excuse but leaving it anyway. _ Enough confrontation for one day, _ she rationalised to herself. 

 

“What are you doing after breakfast?” Draco asked, changing the subject. 

 

“I’m going to the library until lunch, why?”

 

“I have books to return, so Blaise and I will escort you there,” he spoke in a tone that left no room for argument and, for some reason, the look on his face compelled her to agree with him  so she nodded. 

 

“Good,” he sighed in relief. 

 

Blaise reached under the table and placed his hand on Draco's thigh, grabbing the blond wizards attention. 

 

“What’s going on?” 

 

Draco leaned forward so his lips were almost brushing Blaise’s ear. His warm breath fanning across his lobe sent shivers down Blaise’s spine, and he gripped Draco’s thigh tighter. 

 

“What’s going on,” Draco whispered, “is that after breakfast, you and I will take Hermione to the library, drop off the books, and then I’m going to take you back to our room.” Blaise felt Draco’s hand come down on his own and move them up Draco’s thigh until his fingers were just brushing against Draco’s hardening cock. Blaise almost started whimpering before remembering where he was. “And I’m going to fuck you for the next few hours,” Draco almost purred in his ear before pulling away, lest anyone catch them that close. 

 

Clearing his throat and loosening his tie, Draco sat back up and smirked at the look on Hermione’s face.  Wide-eyed, she stared at him with her mouth open and her cheeks burning.

 

Blaise looked at her and smirked as well, his fingers still brushing Draco’s cock. How he wished they could take _ her _ back to their room and shag  _ her _ senseless for the rest of the morning. 

 

“So hot together, aren’t they, Granger?” Pansy whispered in her ear. Hermione gulped but didn’t answer. “It’s the contrasting skin tones I think does it for me,”  the Slytherin girl teased.

 

_ “Pansy,” _ Hermione whispered in outrage. 

 

“Do you deny it? And don’t lie, Granger.”

 

_ Merlin, could this morning get any worse?  _

 

“No,” she told her honestly. “I don’t deny it.”

 

Pansy didn't say anything, just smiled and turned back to her cereal. 

 

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

 

Draco and Blaise walked Hermione to the library, made sure she was all set up, dropped off his books, and were now walking back to their room. 

 

“Draco, please tell me what’s going on. Your face when you came into the Hall earlier… well… you looked worried. And why did we have to take Hermione to the library?”

 

“I’ll tell you, but after I fuck you. I need you right now, Blaise, so please, no more questions until after,” Draco pleaded. He just wanted to lose himself in his lover for a while and forget everything. 

 

“Okay, whatever you want.”

 

“Good, come on,” he said, pulling Blaise along faster to Snape's portrait. 

 

“Ah, Mr Malfoy, there you are,” Snape drawled sarcastically. 

 

“Don’t bother, Professor. It’s written, and on my desk. I’ll send it at lunchtime.” Rolling his eyes, he gave the password and sauntered through the opening. 

 

“What was all that about?” Blaise had done nothing but ask questions for the last twenty minutes.  _ Draco certainly did have a lot to tell him.  _

 

“He moaned because I haven’t written to Mother for a week,” Draco explained, turning to face Blaise and stepping closer to him. 

 

“Oh.”

 

“Oh,” he mimicked him. “Now can we stop talking and start doing?”

 

Draco grabbed Blaise by the collar of his robes and hauled him closer. He ran his hands around the back of his neck and joined their lips in a searing kiss. 

 

Blaise fisted Draco’s blond locks and pressed himself closer. Their tongues slid over each other’s before Draco pulled his mouth away and pressed his forehead to Blaise’s. 

 

“I love you, Blaise. I think I’ve loved you since the first day we met when we were two,” Draco confessed quietly, his eyes screwed shut. 

 

“Draco, please tell me what’s going on in your head,” Blaise pleaded again. Heartfelt declarations didn’t come from Draco, so something was going on. 

 

“Later,” he replied, kissing Blaise’s temple and moving down the side of his face,  circling the outer shell of Blaise’s ear before peppering kisses down his neck. 

 

Draco pulled the robe from his partner, letting it fall at their feet. He pulled his tie off next, throwing it behind him, before working the buttons down Blaise’s shirt. Every new bit of exposed skin, Draco kissed or licked, running his hands down his arms as he removed the shirt. 

 

Bending his head, he encircled one of Blaise’s taught nipples in his mouth, running his tongue around it and biting gently. 

 

Blaise moaned and arched his back, pressing his chest against Draco’s mouth. 

 

Draco turned his attention to the other nipple before trailing a path down the hard planes of his stomach to the top of his trousers. 

 

Standing back up, he whispered in Blaise’s ear.  “Imagine Hermione between your legs right now.” 

 

He grabbed Blaise under the chin and forced his head up, sucking the skin on his neck and biting gently, making sure to mark him. Draco felt him tremble under his touch. “Imagine her there right now - your cock between her lips, fucking that sweet little mouth. Can you picture it?” 

 

“Ye...Yes,” Blaise stuttered, his cock hardening at Draco's words and the images forming behind his closed lids. 

 

Draco pushed Blaise back the few steps into their bedroom and onto the end of the bed. He lifted Blaise’s legs and removed his shoes and socks before spreading his legs and reaching up for his belt buckle, their hard lengths grinding against each other as Draco fumbled with the clasp. 

 

Blaise smirked up at him as he reached down to help. 

 

“Why are you fumbling like a fourteen-year-old, Draco?” He teased, “Are you nervous?”

 

“Shit, Blaise,” Draco exclaimed, stepping back and running his hands through his hair, a despondent look on his face. “I’m just… I don’t know how to explain it… I just feel…”

 

“Don’t feel, Draco. Don’t think. Just look at me,” Blaise instructed. He knew when Draco had so much going on in his head that it confused the shit out of him until he didn’t know which way was up. Fortunately, Blaise knew how to deal with him. 

 

_ “Amore, guarda me. sta andando bene. basta concentrarmi su di me,” _ he whispered softly in Italian, looking up at him while sliding his trousers down his legs. 

 

Draco’s eyes flashed as he followed the movement of Blaise’s trousers. Hearing him speak Italian drove him wild with lust. 

 

He reached out and pulled the trousers from Blaise's ankles and tossed them aside, once more stepping between his legs and leaning over him. 

 

“Say more,” he breathed into the side of Blaise’s neck. Draco didn’t understand a word of Italian, but Blaise always told him what he’d said after anyway. All Draco knew was that hearing it made him crave Blaise like a drug; it seemed such a personal thing between them. 

 

The sensuous Italian turned his head until his soft lips brushed Draco’s ear and he whispered. _ “Ti amo anche Draco. Ti amo tanto, alcuni giorni è schiacciante. Ti proteggerò sempre e Hermione. Tu sei la mia vita e da ora in poi non succederà niente di male e finalmente sarai libero e felice.”  _ Blaise finished, pulling his head back into the mattress to look at Draco. 

 

His eyes were blazing a dark grey, like a cold winter’s evening. He brought his lips down on Blaise’s in an unexpected slow and tantalising kiss, licking at the seam.  Blaise moaned, moving his hands into Draco’s hair and pulling him in closer as the kiss became rougher and more furious as they nipped at each other’s mouths. 

 

Blaise moved his hands down to remove Draco’s shirt and tie, the blond helping him by leaning up and giving Blaise access to the buttons. Once the garments had been thrown to the side, Blaise pushed Draco up until they were both sitting, Draco straddling Blaise’s naked lap. 

 

Blaise leant forward, taking one of Draco’s nipples between his teeth and pulling gently, he pinched the opposite nipple in his fingers, making  his lover growl. 

 

“No teasing, Blaise. Not now,” Draco demanded, pulling himself out of Blaise’s hold and standing up. He eyed his partner with desire ; he  was so fucking sexy, sprawled out on the bed, arms above his head pulling all those stomach muscles nice and taught. 

 

Draco moved his gaze down as he removed his trousers and underwear, staring at Blaise’s hard, dark shaft, dripping with precum bobbing against his stomach. He licked his lips as he flung the trousers and pants over his shoulder like a stripper and stepped back over to Blaise. 

 

Placing both hands on Blaise’s knees, Draco pulled him forward until his arse was on the edge of the of the bed. He pushed his legs up until his knees almost touched his shoulders  and, leaning down,  he licked a line from Blaise’s puckered arsehole, across his perineum, and around his balls. 

 

He placed gentle kisses up his shaft and sucked the head of Blaise’s cock into his mouth, swirling his tongue and licking off the cum that had already seeped out. 

 

“Fuck, Draco, that’s feels so good,” Blaise breathed out raggedly, pushing Draco’s head against him.

 

“Mmm,” came the muffled response. Draco continued licking and kissing Blaise’s stomach and chest, slowing down to place wet, open-mouthed kisses on his neck, feeling Blaise’s pulse race under his tongue. 

 

Draco lifted his head and plunged his tongue into Blaise’s mouth hard. He pulled back out and plunged in again, following the pattern a few times, fucking Blaise’s mouth with his tongue.

 

They broke apart both panting wildly, staring into one another’s eyes conveying what they both needed. 

 

Draco flipped Blaise over and pushed him forward up the bed a little. Blaise rose up onto all fours, and Draco immediately ran his hands over the planes of Blaise’s smooth arse cheeks. 

 

“Merlin, Draco, do it. Stop thinking and get lost in me,” Blaise demanded greedily.

 

Draco didn’t answer. He reached over to the bedside cabinet and retrieved the bottle of lube they used. Smearing some over two fingers and rubbing it around Blaise’s puckered hole, he inserted his index finger slowly, pushing past the tight ring of muscle at his entrance. Blaise groaned loudly at the intrusion, pushing back against Draco’s hand and squirming when Draco’s little finger brushed the underside of his bollocks. 

 

“Always so tight, Blaise,” Draco cried passionately.

 

“More,” Blaise gritted out through clenched teeth. He needed more, to feel more, he wanted Draco’s cock inside him. 

 

Again, Draco didn’t answer but felt Blaise jump as he inserted a second finger into his boyfriend’s tight passage, giving him a moment to adapt, before moving his fingers in and out, up and down in a scissoring move and loosening him up. 

 

Blaise writhed beneath him as Draco slid his other hand around Blaise’s waist and fisted his cock, pumping it in time with his fingers  as they plunged  in and out of his arse. 

 

“You, Draco,” Blaise managed to stutter out at the onslaught of his lover's attack. “I need to feel you inside me.”

 

“Move forward,” Draco said in an authoritative tone, moving his fingers out of Blaise’s passage and releasing the grip he had around his cock. 

 

Draco knelt on the bed and pulled Blaise back to him, moving his legs either side and hovering above him. He then spread some lube down his own shaft before guiding Blaise slowly down onto his larger than average manhood. 

 

They both moaned loudly, Draco burying his face into the side of Blaise's neck as  he pulled him further down his hard shaft.  Neither wizard moved for a second until Blaise used his thigh muscles to lift himself off Draco’s rock hard erection and impale himself back down on him. 

 

“Fuck, Blaise, you’re so tight,” Draco hissed into his ear , grabbing onto  his hips and guiding him up and down his length. 

 

They were both panting , their thrusts getting more forceful as Draco reached around with one arm to continue wanking Blaise off. 

 

“Yes, Draco,” Blaise growled in surprise, moving his arms around the back of Draco’s head, making his body arch closer to him. 

 

“Talk to me,” Blaise drawled seductively,  the Italian accent more pronounced as he felt  Draco pound into him harder.  “Talk dirty, Draco. Tell me what else Hermione might be doing if she were here with us right now.” Draco surged harder into him. 

 

“Me pumping into your tight arse while you fuck the Gryffindor’s luscious mouth. Can you see her bent in front of you, Blaise? Her arse swaying in front of you as she licks and sucks your cock. Coming into her hot mouth as I thrust hard and come in your fucking arse. Would you like that, Blaise?” Draco  was  half out of his mind with lust at the image in his mind. He continued to pump his length into his boyfriend, feeling his balls begin to tighten. 

 

He fisted Blaise’s cock in time with his thrusts, and just as forcefully. 

 

“God, Draco, I love you fucking me,” Blaise breathed out, using a hand to turn Draco’s head and thrust his tongue into his hot panting mouth. 

 

Both moaning, their tongues battling for dominance, Draco moved his thumb over the head of Blaise’s erection and smeared the leaking come down his length making his fist squelch as he pumped Blaise’s cock harder. 

 

“Mmm... oh fuck, Draco I’m going to come,” Blaise screamed, wrenching his mouth away to drag in some air. Draco was pumping his cock so hard, Blaise saw stars as he came, squirting his seed across Draco's fingers and down onto the bed. 

 

Draco pumped hard three more times before grunting and filling Blaise with his come. 

 

Both wizards fell forward, Blaise cried out at landing in the mess he had made, utterly spent and breathing raggedly. Draco still had his softening cock inside Blaise, too wiped out to move.  

 

Eventually, Blaise shifted to grab  his wand and cast a  _ Scourgify _ . He then settled himself until his back was pressed against  Draco’s chest, a pale arm encircling his waist. They lay there for a few minutes before Blaise broke the silence. 

 

“You know I love you too, Draco. Always have, always will,” he whispered. 

 

“I know.” Came the muffled response behind him. Draco obviously had his face buried in the pillow. 

 

“So, what did Potter have to say? I have a right to know, especially if it’s about Hermione.”

 

Sighing, and lifting his head off the soft pillow, Draco leaned up on one arm and looked down at Blaise. 

 

“We may have more of a problem with the Weasley bitch than we thought.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *runs and hides…
> 
> Let me know what you think!
> 
> Italian Translations: 
> 
> “Amore, guarda me. sta andando bene. basta concentrarmi su di me,” 
> 
> "Love, look at me. it's going to be fine. Just concentrate on me.”
> 
> ~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
> 
> “Ti amo anche Draco. Ti amo tanto, alcuni giorni è schiacciante. Ti proteggerò sempre e Hermione. Tu sei la mia vita e da ora in poi non succederà niente di male e finalmente sarai libero e felice.” 
> 
> “I love you too, Draco. I love you so much, some days it’s overwhelming. I’ll always protect you and Hermione. You’re my life and from now on nothing bad is going to happen and you can finally be free and happy.”

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think.  
> Thanks for reading x


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